Chips & Chances
by Feeshies
Summary: A wasteland drug dealer gets shot in the head after being mistaken for the Courier Six. A legionary footsoldier gets separated from his squad and is forced to rely on a "degenerate" to get back home. Morality-wise, they have nothing in common. But their situations force them to work together. Mega-revamp of Across the Red Flag-Bearing Sky. Updated weekly. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_Brief Author's Note (last time I'll be doing these things, don't worry): As stated in the summary, this is a rewrite of the story I wrote two years ago-Across the Red Flag-Bearing Sky (how's that for a wordy title?). The original is still avalible on my account, but I'm rewriting it because of multiple mistakes I made with the characterization as well as the poorly-planned out plot. I took all the criticism to heart and I consider the original my rough draft. The first few chapters may seem pretty similar plot point-wise, but I plan on taking the story in a different direction so it's not a complete remake._

_And for those who haven't read the first version...welcome...please do yourself a favor and don't read the original._

**-Celeste-**

Some guy shot me in the head. It happens; that's the life of a drug dealer. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. As both a new face in the Mojave and a doctor with access to all sorts of chemicals, I might as well hold up a sign telling every junkie and raider in the area to come over and kill me. I think the drugs convinced most of them to leave me alone. I was willing to make pure and clean drugs without keeping records and for a cheap price. It was a fair trade: I provide them with the drugs, they don't hang me from the ceiling of an abandoned warehouse with a couple of rusty meat hooks. Everyone wins.

Of course there was also the New California Republic that I had to worry about. As the main force of authority in the otherwise chaotic Mojave wasteland, they took it upon themselves to crack down (no pun intended) on drug usage and distribution. Definitely made my job a lot harder, but I found many ways to get around them. Methods like not looking like a junkie or raider, not acting like a junkie or raider, and copious amounts of pornographic magazines.

These experiences may not hold much radiated water coming from someone who was shot in the head. But here's the thing; I wasn't shot by a raider, junkie, or a trigger-happy NCR trooper. Instead, I was shot in the head by some city boy in a checkered coat. I never met this man before and I didn't even know his name, which is why I will call him "Checkers" until further notice.

On that night, October 11th, I was just going about my business. With a shoe-box full of drugs under my arm and a grenade launcher in my messenger bag, I was as carefree and happy-go-lucky as a prewar schoolgirl. But I made one crucial mistake. A tip for the aspiring Mojave drug dealer: Don't make deliveries at night.

I was getting to that point in the desert where the old roads built before the war begin to be replaced with packed earth. When the roads disappeared, so did my ability to navigate. I ended up having to rely on the stars, the way our ancestors used to do during their drug deliveries I'm sure. My first instinct should have been to turn around right then and there. But for whatever reason, I felt like my best option would be to just keep going. Why? Because no feelings of inevitable doom were going to keep me from my hundred caps.

My perspective all changed when I heard rustling around me, accompanied by dry shuffling in the packed dirt. At first I thought the sounds were coming from some of the amazing wildlife the Mojave has to offer, but even that would have been bad news for me. If I had to fight even a mere radroach, the sounds of combat would attract any bigger threats that were in the area. I had no choice but to aim for stealthy, or I was dead.

The harsh sound of metal against bone hit my ears and the volume almost masked the stinging pain that erupted through my skull. I fell to the ground and I didn't have time to think about how much my tits hurt from slamming against solid earth or whether I chipped a tooth from my fall or not. Because I was already out cold.

…

My eyes opened, but they felt crusty and dry as if someone chucked a fistful of sand at my face. The first thing I noticed was my vision. Lying there on my side, I waited for my eyes to adjust to what was around me. Minutes flew by and my vision was still blurry as hell. I then realized that my glasses were gone and everything else came crashing over me after that.

From behind a duct tape gag, I made a sound that could only be described as a combination of a muffled shout and a squeak as I struggled against the rest of my bindings. The rough ground scraped against my bare arms, but I hardly paid any concern during my escape attempt. Unfortunately whoever tied the ropes around my arms and legs definitely knew what they were doing-those suckers weren't coming off.

From behind me, I could hear footsteps crunching against the desert floor and all my movements came to a stop as if out of instinct.

I could tell that all the drugs in the world weren't going to get me out of this one.

"Girly's waking up." The man behind me spoke, his voice was as coarse and rough as the ground that I was now way too acquainted with.

Two more sets of footsteps came closer and I craned my neck upwards to get a better look at them.

One of them was a member of the Great Khans, a gang that I was already familiar with due to my business (honestly I felt a little betrayed). His black leather armor shined in the limited light outside and he tapped the end of a shovel against the ground. I felt my stomach tighten; something told me he wasn't interested in going treasure hunting with me. The guy who was previously behind me also stepped forward and revealed himself to be a Khan as well. At first I was about to dismiss this as typical gang violence, but then I saw the man who seemed to be calling the shots.

He was tall, lean, and his dark hair was neat enough to indicate that he was definitely not from the Mojave wasteland. Unlike the leather armor the Khans had or wasteland fatigues, Mister"Look how sophisticated I am" decided to go for a little midnight stroll in a perfectly-tailored checkered suit. In his hands, he kept flipping a large, silver coin. I bet he manicured his fingernails too.

"Something doesn't feel right about this." He tucked the coin back into his coat pocket and stepped forwards. I would have backed off if I wasn't restrained.

He roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I grunted, but I kept my eyes focused on his face. Normally I was bad at remembering visual details, so I was determined to do whatever I could to remember this dick's face. Considering I made it out alive, that is.

"How does a wastelander like you get her hands on one of the most valuable artifacts in the Mojave?"

If he wanted an answer, he would be out of luck both because of the gag and I had no idea what he was talking about. I left my shack with a box of chems, some magazines, and some miscellaneous weapons. Nothing worth ambushing and knocking someone out for.

I began to feel hopeful. Maybe they'll realize they got the wrong person and they'll let me go. Then we can all laugh about this crazy incident and we'll go our separate ways. But kneeling there, arms and legs tied together and Checker's hand on my face, it was clear that was not going to happen.

He let go of my face and I almost fell over. Looking up, I saw him turn his back to me, the Khans remained on either side of him like a pair of statues. When Checkers moved to the side, I could see something behind him: an open grave. A bead of cold sweat dripped down my forehead and I felt my body begin to shake. Yeah, they weren't letting me out of this one.

"Well I suppose that doesn't matter." Oh great, Checkers is still talking. "You have to play with the hand you were dealt."

Checkers turned to face me again and from the inside of his coat he pulled out a 9mm pistol. My struggling became more intense and I felt light-headed from the lack of oxygen due to the gag. There really was no point to the struggle, though. When you're on the ground, gagged and bound and there's a man pointing a gun at you, there's not much you can do beyond trying to find God or something.

"And from where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck."

There are three main responses to danger. Fight, flight, and the lesser known one, "fuck it". That's where I was.

The rest of Checker's features seemed to disappear into the shadows as did the Khans standing beside him.

"Truth is," His finger twitched against the trigger and I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes. "...The game was rigged from the start."

I didn't even hear the gunshot. I was gone long before he pulled that trigger.

…

As much as it would have been nice to believe that there was an archangel looking after me, my sole reason for surviving was on Checkers being a bad shot. I don't know how he accomplished that given I was kneeling directly in front of him, but the bullet just missed turning my entire brain into pulp. Later I would come to learn that if the bullet was moved by just a few centimeters, I would not have survived. Maybe I did succeed in finding God.

The man who dug the bullet out of my brain was a surgeon named Doc Mitchell. For a man who successfully performed a brain surgery with little resources, he didn't stand out much appearance-wise. He had a gray mustache, thinning hair, and instead of the crisp labcoats I remember the doctors wearing back home, he dressed more like the prospectors that roam the wastes. He kind of reminded me of my Grandpa Eugene before his steamboat accident (may he rest in peace).

The only thing I could remember about my recovery was sitting by the window in a daze, waiting for my legs to work. I was a well-respected chemist back home, I have a deep understanding of science and the natural world, and yet I was reduced to the behavior of an infant. I couldn't walk, I could barely talk, and all I did was stare out the clinic window and drool a bit on my shirt.

Even after I found the power to walk again, I would continue to sit and stare out the window. It wasn't like there was some exciting action going on in Goodsprings, Nevada. It's just so easy to get lost in the tumbleweeds drifting across the dirt roads when you're trying to find some way to distract yourself from the dull pain that's still throbbing away in your brain.

"Celeste." Doc Mitchell's voice cut in from behind me. He had to spoon-feed me for an unspecified amount of time, so we were on a first name basis. "Glad to see you're up and about."

I turned away from the window and moved my wheelchair towards the center of the room. It was frustrating knowing that I had the physical capability to walk, but my mind was too stubborn to let me do it.

"I promise I'll get out of your hair as soon as I can."

Doc Mitchell chuckled. "I ain't got much hair left anyway. You stay for as long as you need."

I smiled weakly in response; I sort of figured that he wouldn't just kick me out when I was still like this.

The doctor sat across from me on the cot, the expression on his face shifted to a more serious one. I wasn't used to seeing him like this. Did I puke in the kitchen sink again?

"I hope you don't mind, but I had to go diggin' around through your stuff to try to see if there was some identification on you."

I felt my stomach drop as every illegal object I carried with me began flashing through my mind. Even after the months or so of caring for me, I had a feeling that the doc would turn me in to the NCR the second I made a full recovery.

"I understand that things get rough out here in the Mojave." He spoke to me like a parent scolding his child. "But the weapons you have on you are disturbing to say the least. And not to mention the drugs…."

I picked at a blister on my hand while my gut churned. I figured that Doc Mitchell wouldn't be the type to just abandon me when I'm still in the recovery stage, but that didn't make this confrontation any less nerveracking.

"I just like to be prepared." I muttered, continuing to pick at my hand. "There are dangerous critters and people out here in the Mojave."

"That still doesn't explain the need for chemical weapons."

"...Maybe it's a _really _dangerous critter or person."

The look Doc Mitchell gave me was a good sign that I was not going to be able to argue with him. I just sat there helplessly in my chair as I watched him remove my weapons and chems from my bag. My hands clenched in my lap; there was no way I'd be able to go after Checkers now.

"I know that some folks out there feel like they need to resort to violence." Doc Mitchell sat back down across from me. "But there are plenty of other paths you can take. You can settle down here in Goodsprings if you'd like; it's unlikely you'll get shot in the head way out here."

Though I could tell he was just trying to help, I didn't allow myself to take any of his words to heart. I had to get answers from Checkers. If not, who's to say they wouldn't just track me down again? It was too early for pacifism and forgiveness and definitely too early to be in the wasteland without a damn gun.

...

I left Doc Mitchell's care a few weeks later. He let me keep some of my supplies like my canteen, food, and bottlecaps, but if anyone tried to steal them from me I was shit out of luck.

After sitting in the dark for who knows how long, the Mojave sun hit me like a second bullet to the brain. Not only that, but I still wasn't used to walking on terrain that wasn't a smooth wood floor. It didn't help that Doc Mitchell's house was on the top of a dirt hill; I looked like a newborn brahmin flailing down that road.

A few minutes outside for the first time, and I felt like maybe I needed more time to recover. My head still hurt like hell, but also I felt weak and...floppy. I was only wearing a tank top, cargo pants, and boots, but I might as well have been wearing full power armor. My hand limply felt around in my nearly empty bag and I felt like a huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders when I felt the outline of my box of cigarettes and my lighter. I guess Doc Mitchell was kind enough to not remove every addictive substance from my bag.

Smoking that time hurt, like I was thirteen and smoking my first cigarette again. I felt like I was coughing fragments of my lungs up and each cough sent a sharp pain directly to my head, but it still felt good. That first cigarette was like popping a boil; it was painful and disgusting, but the relief made it all worth it. Gross analogy? Get used to it-the Mojave can get pretty gross.

But the cigarette could only do so much. Only a few minutes later, I felt light-headed again. There had to be some place I could collapse in, like a motel or something. But after wandering aimlessly down the main dirt road of Goodsprings, the only place that fit that description was a saloon. "Prospector Saloon" was written in neon letters, the lights straining to shine through the dust that was being kicked up in the air.

It had to be a hundred degrees outside, but I still felt chills rush up my spine. I used to visit these types of places quite frequently back when I was younger. I couldn't even remember the last time I stepped into a bar. I tried to avoid them.

I stared up at the neon sign and brushed my sweaty bangs out of my face. Considering the size of the town, I didn't have much options when it came to places to rest. Plus I didn't have enough caps to waste on drinks like I used to.

A small brass bell ringed when I pushed the saloon door open, and judging by the looks of the interior, it seemed like that was the only sound to enter this room in a while. The light streaming in through the dust-coated windows gave everything in the near empty saloon an orange glow. Despite having a pool table and a jukebox, no one appeared to be in the main entrance room. To the right, an empty doorframe lead to the actual bar. Even though I would have prefered to stay where there wasn't easily accessible booze, I could still hear movement inside so I didn't have much of a choice.

I turned the corner and immediately collapsed on one of the booths by the window. My eyes wandered around the inside of the saloon while I waited for my mind to stop spinning. As far as the inside of the Prospector Saloon goes: it was the inside of a saloon. That's it. The wooden wall panels were lined with old posters of Vegas and shelves stacked with different colored liquor.

The only other person in the bar was the bartender; a woman with short brown hair wiping off the bartop with a dirty rag.

"You look like you could use a drink."

I sat up straight and rubbed my eyes from behind my glasses. "Just water will be fine."

The bartender filled a glass with some rather cloudy water and I hesitantly made my way over to the bar. As I reached into my bag to get my caps, I couldn't help but feel that she was staring at me.

"Is something wrong?" I dropped the caps on the counter and grabbed the water glass.

"You're the one Doc Mitchell was patching up, aren't you?" She slid the caps towards her without bothering to count them.

I drank the water way faster than I should have. "How did you know?"

She brushed her fingers over her left temple and I mimicked her gesture.

Of course. I'm an idiot.

A patch of hair on the left side of my head was shaven off from the surgery, exposing this ugly set of stitches that snaked its way across my scalp. Even from just tracing my fingers over the scar, I felt nauseous and anxious all over again.

"Doc Mitchell told me all about you." She leaned forward against the bar. "Shot in the head, huh? Impressive."

My body went cold and numb. I could only nod in response.

"My name's Trudy, by the way. So can I get you something else to drink?"

"I-" My voice cracked in a rather embarrassing fashion. "...my name's Celeste and no thank you."

"Okay, suit yourself."

I watched Trudy go back to tending the bar for customers who wouldn't come. The entire time I tried to find the best way to word exactly what I wanted.

"Trudy?" I kept my eyes looking down at the glass of water which was now warm from my hands. "I have a question-about my injury."

She swung the rag over her shoulder. "'fraid you'll have to go to Doc Mitchell for any medical-related questions."

I shook my head. "No, it's not that." I found myself running my fingers over the stitches again-I couldn't wait for my hair to grow back so I wouldn't be able to do that. "By any chance do you know the men who attacked me? Two Khans lead by a man in a checkered coat?"

Since I didn't expect to get anywhere, I was pleasantly surprised when Trudy nodded.

"I see you're familiar with the freeloaders too. They came in a few weeks ago, around the time the robot brought you here."

"Robot?"

"Yes, but I didn't think they were connected." Trudy continued, as if she didn't say anything strange at all. "I thought it was strange for a group like them to land in this town, but I didn't listen in on their arguments for too long. I did hear that they were headed to the Strip through Primm and Novac."

"I'm sorry, did you say something about a robot?"

"Oh, Victor?" Trudy grimaced. "It's just one of those Vegas securitrons who for some reason decided to make Goodsprings its home. Digging you out of that grave was probably the only useful thing it's done since it got here."

I picked at the brim of the glass. "You don't like him."

She signaled for me to stop messing with the glass. "It acts friendly enough, but that 'friendly cowboy' thing it's got going on is off-putting. Still, it took a liking to you but I-"

The sound of glass shattering cut through Trudy's words and I instinctively reached for my gun that wasn't there. If we were being attacked, I would have to fight them with a half-empty glass of water.

Trudy cursed and jumped out from behind the bar with a shotgun in her hands. Fortunately no one else seemed to be inside, but one of the dust-stained windows was smashed open. I followed Trudy from the bar, the shards of broken glass crunching under our shoes. Lying beneath the shattered window was a single weather-worn brick.

"They're at it again." Trudy sighed. "I'll get the broom."

I knelt down next to the brick and picked it up. Turning it over in my hands, I saw "HAND HIM OVER, BITCH" written in black marker.

"This happens often?" I set the brick down by the windowsill. It was hard to imagine that such a quiet little town would have frequent incidents like this.

Trudy came back with a broom and dustpan. "Powder Gangers, or at least a cowardly branch of them." She began to sweep up some of the glass off the floor. "They haven't been happy with us ever since we let one of their enemies take shelter here."

"So...they throw bricks through your windows?" The gangs I had experience working with would do far worse. Less broken windows and more broken bones.

"That and spray painting obscenities on our town sign." She picked the dustpan up and threw the bits of glass away. "Mostly juvenile stuff. I don't think they'd ever do anything serious."

"Still, I imagine it's a pain to deal with every day. Why don't you just hand the guy over and be done with it?"

Trudy frowned at me. "If we just handed over everyone who came here for help, your ass would have been kicked out into the desert the second we found those weapons of yours."

I bowed my head. "News sure travels fast around here."

"Besides," Trudy rested the broom against the wall. "Even if we did hand Ringo over, who's to say they'd stop at him? They'd keep pecking at this town like buzzards until there's nothing left."

"Which is why they should be dealt with. I've worked with gangs in the past-" I paused when Trudy gave me a weird look. "-if we can't give them what they want, we should find some way to get rid of them."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Trudy crossed her arms. "The NCR hasn't stepped in because this town is of little importance and I don't think a lot of the people here would want to get involved with them."

"Well, if I could get my weapons back-"

"Absolutely not."

I slumped my shoulders. "I guess we'll just wait for them to leave."

Trudy waved aside the statement. "As I said, they probably won't do anything too drastic."

Staring down at the broken windowpane, I couldn't help but feel like I had to take some sort of responsibility. Normally I wasn't one to get involved in matters like this, but for some reason I felt like I couldn't just walk away from this situation. Messing with this situation could be like poking at a cazador nest (not a good idea, for the record), but I had to do something.

"Maybe I could talk to this Roger."

"Ringo."

"Right. Do you know where I could talk to him, get some more info?"

She looked out the window. "He should still be hiding in the gas station. Don't know how willing he'd be to fight back either, though."

"I never said anything about fighting, I-" I ran my fingers through my hair, making a point to avoid touching the scar again. "Thanks for the water."

"No problem. Try not to get shot again."

Whoever threw the brick through the window was long gone by the time I left the saloon. This time the sun seemed a lot less blinding and I was able to walk without feeling like I was about to collapse. Yep, I sure was ready to go against a gang. With my questionable health and lack of weapons, maybe I could talk the Powder Gangers to death before I pass out again.

Looking down the dirt road that cut through Goodsprings, I could see something rolling away from me-a robot. Even this was probably a bad idea given my condition, I ran after him.

"Hey!" I tried to get his attention, but I guess securitrons don't have ears. Victor turned the corner and I lost track of him. How do you lose an 8 foot tall robot in a tiny town? I don't know, but I managed to do so.

I stopped to catch my breath. I only ran for a few minutes, but already I felt like I was going to collapse. Perhaps I was getting way in over my head with this whole vengeance thing.

The saloon was way too far back for me to return to and the rest of the buildings around me were locked. All except for one. Across the road from me was an old prewar schoolhouse. The faded red wood almost blended in with the desert and it looked like no one touched it in decades, but it was probably nice and cool inside.

I stepped over the collapsed chain-link fences and forced the rusted-over hinges to open as I pushed at the door. The inside of the schoolhouse was no less hot than it was outside, but even more dank and musty. The wood floors and overturned desks were bloated from the humidity and the only light came streaming through the broken windows. It was just like the schoolhouses I used to go to back home.

I made my way through the school, stepping over toppled chairs and lockers. A few feet in and I began to notice that there were giant mantises on the ground-just the shell with all their meat scooped out. Someone was here recently.

The idea that I was not alone became more clear when I saw that on the far end of the schoolhouse by the blackboard, some of the desks were arranged like a fort. If there was anyone behind the pile, I couldn't see them. Slowly, I began to approach the desks against all better judgement.

"Hello?" I called out to no response, but I could definitely hear something rustling from behind the desks. I was beginning to bet that it was just some animal hiding there, but I still wanted to check it out. Unfortunately I was without a weapon, but I figured that I could easily smash someone's brains in with a desk and make a run for it.

My hands wrapped around the damp metal legs of one of the desks and lifted it up over my head and whatever was hiding there was completely exposed. I don't know what I expected to find, but to say I was surprised was an understatement.

Huddled behind the desk shelter was a fully-uniformed legionary.

I've encountered plenty of gangs when I was in the Mojave, but I never experienced the good fortune of meeting one of these guys. From what I heard, they were a large gang who modeled themselves off of the Roman empire-but only the slavery and running around in skirts parts. Around the time I first came to the Mojave, these guys had an all-out war with the NCR over the Hoover Dam. Pretty big deal for a gang. I heard they were crazy, brutal, barbaric, and one was sitting right there in front of me.

"Oh, shit." Was all I could manage to say. What was I supposed to do? Just leave him there? Smash the desk over his head?

Before I could respond, he knelt down in front of me, his frame shook despite the overwhelming heat inside the schoolhouse.

"Kill me. Don't turn me in to the NCR." His voice came out muffled from behind the bandanna he wore around his face, but the fear in his tone was still obvious.

I dropped the desk, just not on him. "A legionary in the Mojave? I thought they were all in Arizona or Utah."

"Well, surprise." He waved his hands in an almost playful manner. "So are you going to kill me or not?"

I knelt down in front of him so I could get a better look at what I was dealing with. I was just surprised that he didn't die of a heat stroke. His uniform appeared to be made of heavy prewar sports equipment. Football pads over his shoulders and chest, catcher's vest over his torso, plain red jersey, and a scratchy-looking brown kilt. His features were covered by a brown cap, bandana, and goggles. I can't make any of his getup sound cool, because it wasn't.

"Didn't plan on it. What are you doing here anyway?" I wrapped my hand around one of the nearby chair legs so if by any chance he tried to do something, I could smash him with it like a prewar wrestler.

He scooted back against the chalk-dusted blackboard and crossed his arms. "I'm living the dream here. Eating raw mantis meat, using the sweat from my shirt for water, rotting away alone; this is paradise."

"...really?"

"No not really!" He was now yelling right at my face. "I'm here because I'm stuck! Now just kill me!"

I unwrapped my hand from the chair. "Why would I kill you?" This was a trap, it had to be. Why would any wastelander, even a legionary, offer himself up like this?

"One: I'm a legionary and you're a profligate. Two: I would prefer to die in battle than by my own hands or by nature." Despite naming two reasons, he held up three fingers. "Choose."

"Then just leave."

The legionary held his arms up. I wondered how his own smell didn't kill him yet. "Why didn't I think of that? I just walk back to the Fort from here, I'm sure the NCR will be nice!"

I crossed my arms. "I don't like your tone."

"Then prove how much you don't like it by taking my head!"

He bowed down in front of me. Ever since the Checkers incident, I wasn't a big fan of the killing someone while they were completely helpless. There had to be another way around this.

"You're taking a long time." He kept his head down, his voice shook. "I'm at your mercy. Are you too cowardly to do it?"

I picked at my nails. "Stop with the name calling, or I may rethink my decision to save your life."

The legionary looked up at me and even though his face was covered, I could still see the look of utter disbelief on his features.

"You're not going to kill me?"

"Only if you give me a reason to."

"I just have you two."

"And they both sucked. Now get up."

The legionary stood to his full height and while he was rather lanky in build, he still towered over me. Didn't matter, I could still kick his ass if I wanted to. Or at least I hoped I could, because I reached out and grabbed one of his arms and began examining it.

"So you're one of the feared legionaries?" I flopped his arm back and forth in my hand. He was obviously uncomfortable, but he didn't do anything about it.

"Are you mocking me?"

I dropped his arm and slowly paced around him, trying to get a better look at this guy.

"Not yet." I couldn't help but smirk when I saw him shaking like a freshly shaven animal. "But the legion must be a 'strength in numbers' sort of deal because I'm not intimidated by you at all."

"I can fight for myself." He crossed his arms. "My training wasn't for nothing."

I stopped pacing directly in front of him. "Then how come you haven't tried anything yet?" I didn't want to egg him on, but I figured that if the Legion was anything like what I believed it to be. He was more than capable of killing me right then and there.

"The only thing worse than dying alone is dying next to a rotting corpse."

"I see." Reaching out, I roughly grabbed his jaw, causing him to let out a rather funny squeak, and turned his head around in my hand. "You know, I've never met a legionary before. Plenty of other gang members, but never a legionary." Well now that I was with a non-hostile legionary, this could be a good chance to clear up some rumors.

"I think that's a good thing." He tried to pull his face out of my grip. "Let go of me."

I leaned in closer to him and he began to back away.

"Is it true that you devour the newborn sons of neighboring tribes to absorb their essence?"

"...what?"

"Are all your buildings made out of the skin and bones of your enemies?" I picked a bit at his shoulder armor.

"No we use bricks or tents. What are you talking about?"

I frowned and crossed my arms. "You know, you guys aren't as crazy as I heard."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, sorry?"

Looking over the legionary again, I couldn't say this surprised me. Sure this kid was a part of a gang I heard horrible things about, but he still looked like a kid to me. But it was apparent he knew how to fight, but unlike some raiders or gang members I knew, he didn't seem to be the type to start attacking people at random. I got a horrible and incredibly stupid idea.

"So if you're not crazy, maybe you could help me out?"

We both seemed equally shocked from by what I just said. The legionary took a step back, eyeing me curiously.

"Why would I help a profligate?"

"Because this 'profligate' is going to save your life." _What are you doing? _"I have a pretty long trip ahead of me and I could use the help of someone who can fight and knows their way around the desert."

I could see him clearly weighing his options. I wouldn't be surprised if this was the first time he was ever asked to make a serious decision.

"What's in it for me?" His voice was hesitant and cautious, as if he was the one who was making the risky choice.

"You want to go home?"

That definitely did the trick. Even behind the mask, I could see his eyes widen.

He bowed his head and spoke quietly. "More than anything."

"Then it's settled!" I nudged his arm and he held his head up again. "After you help me, I'll help you get home! Deal?" I'll be honest, the idea of confronting Checkers with a full legionary by my side sounded incredible to me.

"Where are you going?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Are you in any position to be picky?"

He glanced over to the side. "...no."

"Then it's settled! Vegas, here we come!"

His body jolted. "Wait, what?"

I ignored him and began digging through my bag, which was a lot easier after most of my supplies were removed. I found my canteen, still partially filled with lukewarm water.

"Here, have some water." I held the canteen out to him. "You look like you need it."

The legionary looked at me like I just handed him a million caps on a silver platter, not a plastic container of dirty water.

He pushed the bandanna off of his face. "Are you sure? How much can I have?"

I shrugged. "Take as much as you need. I can refill it later."

While he downed the water like a champ, I resumed digging through my bag in the hopes of finding some kind of food.

"I don't have much as far as things to eat goes." I returned with a few pieces of gecko jerky that I didn't even want to know how long they've been in there. "I have a few pieces of jerky, but if you want something else I-"

Before I could finish my sentence, the jerky disappeared from my hand. I guess he no longer had standards after rotting away in a schoolhouse. Or maybe legion food was just that awful.

He ate the jerky in a way that more resembled someone trying to frantically destroy their old writing than actually eating. I picked the canteen back up off the floor.

"You stay here." I twirled the canteen around by the strap. "I'll go refill this."

I was about to turn and leave this humidity nightmare, but then I remembered something incredibly important.

"Oh!" I stopped and turned around. "My name's Celeste."

The legionary wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Recruit #746."

I frowned. "Okay, I hope your parents didn't name you that."

He lowered his head. "...Livius."

I smirked. "Okay that's...better." Maybe I'll just name him myself. "Anyway, I'll be back in a bit."

The schoolhouse door nearly fell off its hinges when I opened it. I never thought I'd see the day where the outside of the Mojave desert was actually cooler than inside. I wiped the sweat off of my brow and leaned against the schoolhouse wall.

"What am I doing?"

…

Before refilling the canteen, I headed over to the general store to find some actual clothes for the guy. It has been a while since I bought clothes, but I played it safe and bought the smallest set of menswear I could find.

"Why is clothing so expensive?" I held the bundle of clothing closer to my chest. "This kid better be grateful."

Near the main road leading out of Goodsprings I could see a group of men talking in a circle. I couldn't get a good look at them, but since they were all wearing the same faded blue clothing and they were so far away from the rest of the town. I had a feeling these guys were Powder Gangers.

I crept up on them and hid behind a nearby abandoned house. Fortunately, I don't think they saw me. I steadied my breathing and tried to listen in on what they were saying.

"Piece of shit town still won't hand Ringo over." One of the shorter Powder Gangers spoke. The commanding tone he spoke in and the black chest armor he wore over his blue uniform gave me a feeling that he was the one controlling this operation. Maybe he was the one who decided which bricks were best for chucking through windows. "It's time for them to pay."

My body went numb and the clothes nearly slipped out of my grasp.

"We're ready to strike." A rather burly man in the group responded. "Just give the signal."

"Good."

From my limited knowledge of Powder Gangers, I could remember that they were mostly known for dealing with explosives. I hoped their experiences with them made them rather hard of hearing, because I didn't even bother to be stealthy or graceful when I ran back to the schoolhouse.

I gave in and kicked the door open and leapt into the schoolhouse like a majestic radroach being blown back with a shotgun.

"Livius!"

The legionary stood up, clearly startled.

"Is this how profligates act? Why didn't you just-"

I chucked the clothing at his face. When he recovered, he peeled the tanktop off and examined it.

"Quick, put that on." I was pacing around the schoolhouse at that point and looking out the window every few seconds. "Something big just came up. Can't afford to have you seen like that."

"Whatever you say, I guess." Livius shrugged and immediately began unfastening his belt.

I turned away and covered my eyes. "Couldn't you wait for me to leave?" I blindly pushed my way through what remained of the door and stepped outside.

After some time of sitting outside of the schoolhouse, something felt wrong. I felt like we didn't have much time until the Powder Gangers attacked and Livius was still getting dressed. What the hell was he doing? Did he not know how pants worked? Actually that could have been a very real possibility.

After what felt like hours, Livius exited the building and stood next to me.

"Profligate clothing is weird."

"You'll get used to it."

I looked up at him and it was amazing how different he looked without the Legion uniform, like I could almost take him seriously. He was tall, athletic in build, and his skin was covered with tan lines where his armor once rested. His dark brown and sweat-drenched hair stuck out around his head and he had some patches of unkempt facial hair, which somehow made him appear even younger. He sheathed his machete and swung his rifle over his shoulder.

"I can't believe I managed to get clothes that fit." I examined him closer, but then something caught my eye.

Branded around his upper biceps and his right forearm were black rings tattooed onto the skin.

"What are those?"

Livius followed my gaze with his eyes.

"These?" He touched one of the tattoos, almost sounding proud. "All legionaries get these if they survive training!"

"Oh, that's neat." I stared closer at the marks. "You have to cover them."

He pulled his arm away from me, his already large eyes widening even more.

"What? You can't hide my legionary status! That's who I am!"

"Yeah and that's kind of a problem!" I crossed my arms. "I have no time to argue. Just trust me."

Livius thought in silence for a moment, then with a defeated sigh he held his arms out.

I roughly grabbed his wrists and he flinched. "It's only for when we're in public."

"Just get it over with."

I searched through my bag to try to find something I could cover the tattoos with. The only thing I could find was a roll of bandages. Close enough. I began to wrap the bandages around his arms, probably a little too tight since I was used to using them for medical purposes. If we actually needed these in the future, we were going to be shit out of luck.

Finally Livius looked like the beginning stages of a mummy, but it was an improvement. He rubbed at his arms, obviously more than a little uncomfortable.

"This is weird. So why were you freaking out before?"

I packed the rest of the bandages away. "Just follow me. I'll explain on the way."

…

I tried to explain the situation with the Powder Gangers and Ringo to Livius as we ran up the road to the gas station, but Livius had to keep stopping so I could catch up with him. By the time we reached the top of the hill, I was ready to pass out while Livius barely broke a sweat.

"You're trying to save this guy?" Livius perched himself on one of the gas pumps.

I took a few minutes to catch my breath. "Not the guy. The town. A gang going to attack." I nearly doubled over from that sentence alone. Watch out, Powder Gangers. Meet your new biggest threat.

Eventually I found the strength to open the gas station door. Livius trailed behind me and peered over my shoulder.

"That's close enough."

I felt my stomach do a backflip when I took a look inside the main room. Standing right there in front of me was a man pointing a pistol at my head. My mind went blank. I felt like I was in the early stages of my recovery again; unable to speak and completely helpless.

The man kept his weapon aimed. "I'm not going down without a fight."

Livius stepped in front of me and unsheathed his machete. "I'll kill him."

For some reason that snapped me out of it. "Livius! No!"

Ringo lowered his gun. "Wait, so you're not Powder Gangers?"

Holding a conversation is difficult when you're trying to restrain a legionary.

"No. Just here to talk about your situation."

Finally Ringo put the weapon away and Livius seemed to calm down. "I see the town roped you into this as well."

I leaned against the nearby counter. "Listen, the Powder Gangers are going to attack any moment. We have to do something."

Ringo sat back down, looking rather dejected. "There's no point. We'll just be giving them two more targets."

"What do you propose we do then?"

"We could just give him to the gang." Livius chimed in.

"That wouldn't work long-term." I glanced over at Livius. "Even if we did hand him over, if this town still has resources they'll keep coming back for more."

I looked back at Ringo, who now looked rather disturbed.

"We're not going to turn you in. We're going to end this now."

Ringo glanced over to the side. "It's not going to be easy. I killed one of their men when they attacked my caravan. This isn't a petty grudge."

"Do you want our help or not?"

"I-"

Ringo was cut off by a huge, ear-drum-shattering explosion from outside. I instinctively dove behind one of the counters while Livius and Ringo just fell to the floor.

I poked my head out from behind the counter. Livius sat up and brushed some of the dust off of his shirt.

"We should do something about that."

Glad I decided to bring him along. This kid was a genius.

"Okay, here's the plan." I jumped out from behind the counter.

"No, I have a plan." Livius unsheathed his machete and began polishing the blade. "You two lie low and I'll get you a weapon."

"But we don't know how many there-"

Livius didn't bother to listen to me. Instead he stormed out of the gas station and raced down the hill in record time.

Ringo and I stood there in silence.

"So...now what?"

"Now." I rubbed my eyes. My ears were still ringing from the explosion. "Now I have to make sure this kid doesn't get himself killed."

…

Ringo and I ran down the hill towards the center of town and I'm proud to say that this time I didn't nearly pass out.

We took cover behind an overturned cart and watched the Powder Gangers run through the town. There had to be at least a dozen of them out there, but none of the other citizens appeared to be out.

Ringo moved to take cover behind some Sunset Sarsaparilla crates so he could fire at the Powder Gangers more easily. Meanwhile I was still stuck behind a cart. Unarmed and completely powerless.

Through the heavy stream of dynamite, Molotov cocktails, and bullets, I tried to keep my eyes out for Livius.

The Powder Gangers continued to power through Goodsprings. Windows were shattering, men were kicking doors in, and more explosives were going off to assure that I would be going deaf before I turn 30.

This was hopeless. There was just too many of them. Livius was probably dead or long-gone and even Ringo's shots weren't doing much. For every Powder Ganger he took down, there were at least four more still destroying the town. And even then he was far more useful than I was.

But then, one of the Powder Gangers in front of the saloon just dropped dead. I didn't hear a gunshot or anything, but then again with all the noise going on it was a wonder I could hear anything at all. Another stopped midway through lighting a fuse of dynamite to check on him, only to drop dead himself.

I squinted my eyes through the smoke and dust. I could just make out the shape of Livius darting around the center of town, slicing and shooting at Powder Gangers left and right. Maybe his training wasn't for nothing after all.

A handgun slid from the fight and near my leg and over the unrelenting noise of combat, I heard Livius yell something in my direction. I could only hope it was an apology for running off like a moron.

I tried to load the gun from behind the cover of the wagon, but the genius didn't get me any ammo. Guess I would have to chuck it at the enemy if I needed to.

The next time I looked back over the wagon, Livius somehow disappeared from the main source of the battle. While most of the Powder Gangers were either deceased or injured, my legionary appeared to be missing.

I tossed the gun to the side and jumped out from behind the cart.

Don't be dead. Don't be dead.

I had to punch my way through a few Powder Gangers to get to the saloon where I last saw Livius.

"Livius?" The noise died down, but my voice strained as if I was trying to yell over a rocket being launched.

"Celeste!" Livius's voice came from behind the saloon and I relaxed.

"I'll be right there!" I pried a meat cleaver out of the hands of a dead Powder Ganger and raced behind the saloon. This had to be an ambush. They were holding Livius hostage or something, but that didn't occur to me until the exact moment I turned the corner.

But what I saw was definitely not what I expected.

Livius stood there, almost completely unharmed and leaning against the saloon wall. Directly in front of him was the leader I saw speaking earlier, but this time he was kneeling on the ground with his wrists bound.

I dropped the cleaver. "Where did you get that rope…"

"I found the man they answer to." Livius looked like a pet presenting a dead animal to its owner. "How should we start torturing him?"

"Tort…" I shook my head. "What are you talking about?"

"He must pay for his weakness…" Despite what he was talking about, Livius looked rather sheepish.

"Death is a fine punishment!" It took me all my willpower not to smack him right there. "Keep your messed up Legion ideas out of this!"

"Legion?!" The Powder Ganger looked up at us with wide, scared eyes. Definitely not the powerful man I saw earlier that afternoon.

"Don't worry about it." I turned my attention back to Livius. "But I'm putting my foot down. No torture."

Livius narrowed his eyes. "Fine."

He spun around on his heels and shot the Powder Ganger right between the eyes, the look of fear was now permanently engraved on his face.

Livius put his rifle away and kept his gaze lowered. "This isn't how a legionary should behave…"

"Enough with the bullshit!" I snapped and grabbed Livius's collar, pushing him up against the wall. "As long as you're with me, you are not a legionary! Got it? Not Legion!"

"Legion?"

Livius and I both froze and I released him from my grasp. Standing near the outer corner of the saloon was Trudy followed by a group of Goodsprings citizens. At least the fight seemed to be over, but now I had bigger problems to deal with.

Trudy stepped forward, clearly pissed. "Just when I thought this town was out of trouble. You two are Legion spies, aren't you?"

I stepped away from Livius.

"No! Why would you think that? Me? Legion? Never!"

Not the best negotiation in history, but at least I tried. Unlike Livius who approached the group before I could stop him.

"The girl is a profligate, but I have been a legionary soldier and citizen since birth. And I will be until the day I die. I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

I stared at Livius in disbelief. Was this going to be a running thing? Was Livius just going to offer himself up to anyone who poses a mild threat?

Trudy sighed. "Well you know that means we'll have to turn you over to the NCR."

Livius slumped his shoulders. "Looks like that day is coming sooner than I thought."

Before I could react, Livius unsheathed his machete and held the dirty blade to his throat.

"Vale, everyone. Thanks for letting me use your building."

"Are you kidding me?!" I smacked the machete out of his hands. "This man saved your town and now you're just going to hand him over to the NCR?"

"If word got out that we were helping a legionary-"

"Then we'll leave." I roughly grabbed Livius's arm.

Trudy was silent, weighing her options. Eventually she sighed and gave in. "Fine, but you can't return."

"That was the deal anyway." I marched off as Livius stood there in shock. "Let's go."

…

Even after that, I felt bad about just leaving. So I spent the rest of the evening trying to clean up the town. Livius disappeared somewhere to take care of the bodies while I mostly dealt with the deep cleaning. I was just about done wiping the blood and graffiti the Powder Gangers left on the town sign when I saw someone approaching.

"Doc?" I pushed myself up over the sign. Doc Mitchell was standing in front of me with a box in his hands.

"Thanks for all you've done for Goodsprings."

I shrugged. "Well I couldn't just leave."

"Here." He handed the box over to me. "If the NCR drops by, I don't want to be seen with it."

"Thanks, doc." I took the box from him and set it down by the cleaning supplies.

Doc Mitchell fell silent and stared off into the distance. I followed his gaze and saw he was looking at Livius who was dragging a shovel behind him.

"Did you know about that boy being a legionary?"

My face became cold. "Nope."

Doc Mitchell eyed me suspiciously and I tried to play it cool.

"Be careful out there."

"I'll try."

…

That night, Livius and I set up camp a few miles from the main area of Goodsprings near some wells. Trudy never said we couldn't use their water.

I finished refilling our canteens and returned to Livius who was cooking a gecko over the fire.

"Why are you going to Vegas?" Livius poked at the gecko with a stick. "You're not taking me across the desert to do profligate things, are you?"

I knelt down across the fire from him and the pain in my skull felt like it was coming back at full force.

"A man I never met before tried to kill me and I heard he's heading toward the Strip. I don't know what his problem with me was, but I feel like I won't be able to rest easy until I get some answers."

"And vengeance?"

I cracked a small smile. "In due time."

"I can respect that." Livius removed the gecko from the fire and began serving up some slices of the meat on a stick. "I hope I cooked it alright."

I turned the stick around in my hand. "It's been so long since I had actual cooked food."

We ate in silence. I looked back over at the box Doc Mitchell gave me. With a shrug, I pulled it closer and began sorting through it.

"Hey, Livius?"

"Hm?" Livius looked up at me, his cheeks stuffed.

I continued to dig through the box. "Well since I'm going to be away from work for a while, I figured I won't be able to make this delivery anymore." I pulled out a bag of white powder and held it out to him. "You wanna hit? I don't use it myself, but I figured you could use some after all the stress you've been through."

Normally a wastelander would be grateful when offered chems for free. But Livius made a series of choking noises and scampered away like I just pulled a grenade out, which I also could have done.

"Ch-chems?!"

I tossed the bag around in my hand. "Not to toot my own horn or anything, but you won't find anything more clean or pure in the Mojave."

"There's nothing 'clean' or 'pure' about chems!"

I gave him a weird look. "So that's a no?"

"How can you be so normal about this?!" Livius's screaming felt like it was going to wake up any animal within earshot. "It's your fault the Mojave is so full of degenerates!"

"Oh you give me too much credit." But I dropped the bag back into the box anyway.

Livius crossed his arms. "It's disgusting."

"Well, Mr, Judgy, I think some of your Legion ideas are disgusting, so I think we're even."

When Livius failed to respond, I couldn't help but think I knew I messed this up.

"Livius?"

"Huh?"

I glanced over to the side. "If you don't want to travel with me anymore, I understand."

"No, it's okay. It's not like I can go anywhere else." Livius stared into the fire and brought his knees up to his chest. "Actually, being out here by the fire again, reminds me of being with my squad."

"Your squad?" My voice was hesitant. I couldn't help but feel like I was treading into some messy territory. "Where is your squad?"

He looked away. "Where do you think? They're not here now."

"Oh." Yeah, bad idea.

Livius hugged his knees and his eyes looked glazed over as the fire continued to flicker around his face. "I could have stopped this from happening. If I just cared more about their safety and the mission instead of my own survival, I could have stopped this."

I didn't know what sort of response he wanted from me, so I went with the one that came naturally: argument.

"We don't know that for certain. But you're alive, so let's focus on that."

"I knew a profligate wouldn't understand."

I stared at him in shock, "You think I don't understand loss? You think I don't know what it's like constantly wondering what would have happened if you did something different?" My hands clenched into fists, my headache was almost nauseating. "Thoughts like that are only going to torture you. In reality, you can never be certain so you can't let them take control of you."

Livius took a long time to respond again.

"You really are clueless."

"I'm speaking from experience."

"But you're not a legionary. It's different for us."

I looked at him questioningly. "How so?"

Livius closed his eyes. It looked like he was in pain. "A legionary isn't supposed to run from battle. He's supposed to slit his own throat to avoid capture."

"Morbid bunch." Although it did explain how he was so quick to do it himself before.

"My two best friends were better than me." Despite being right in front of the fire, Livius's body began to shake. "We were ambushed by the NCR when we were trying to plan an attack where they were stationed. When it was clear we couldn't win, they…"

Livius paused and rubbed his eyes, but it didn't look like he was crying. "I should have done it too, but I couldn't. I was a coward."

I stared down at the ground. "Everyone's afraid of death to a certain extent. Doesn't make you a coward, just human."

My words were landing on deaf ears. Livius rocked forward, dangerously close to the flames and held his head in his hands.

"A lifetime of training wasted. Lord Caesar is looking at me right now in shame."

I felt my eye twitch. Standing up, I made my way around the fire so I was standing right next to Livius. He didn't acknowledge me, but that was fine.

"Hey." I sat down next to him. "I know nothing I say is going to matter because apparently you legionaries are so much deeper than us 'profligates'. But I saw how you acted in combat. You're a natural fighter; there's no cowardice in you."

I had a feeling nothing I said was going to work, but Livius did lift his head.

"That was different."

"Maybe it was. But you still looked like you knew what you were doing. Don't sell yourself short."

I saw Livius's eyes get a bit watery, probably from sitting so close to the fire.

"...thank you."

I wasn't usually one for physical contact like this, but I gently touched his shoulder.

"Oh, and Livius?"

"Hmm?"

I glanced over to the side, trying to piece my words together as carefully as possible.

"If you do want to die, go ahead. I won't stop you. But make sure it's what you want. Not because of some rule you think you have to follow."

Livius smiled sadly. "That's a lot to ask of a Legion footsoldier."

I shrugged. "I'm asking because I know you're capable of making decisions for yourself."

Livius closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem." I stood up while Livius remained on the ground. "Now let's get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us."

**-Livius-**

Profligates sure know how to sleep.

After all that. After all that talk about loss and knowing how I felt, Celeste was fast asleep. I don't think I have been able to sleep since the battle. I still had unfinished business.

I checked again to make sure she was still asleep. Then I crept out of the metal building (I don't know what it's called) we were using as a shelter. My bag was still with the rest of our supplies. I took my flashlight and the shovel I used to bury the bodies.

At least our campsite wasn't too far away. I should have brought a weapon before walking off into the desert. But when I found what I was looking for, it was too late to turn back.

The bodies of two legionaries pushed up against the cliffs right where I left them. I sighed in relief when I saw that no one else got to them first, and I began to dig.

These two footsoldiers. My best friends. They didn't have names because they weren't Legion citizens so they had to earn theirs. I felt like they deserved names more than anyone, including me. To the NCR, they were nobody. To the wasteland, they were nobody. To the Legion, they were nobody.

But the younger one, he was still a teenager but he could out-train me in almost every field. Our decanus said he could be a centurion some day.

The Legion took the older one from a fierce tribe of warriors. He had scars all over his body from where the Legion burnt his tattoos off. I thought they looked cool.

Finally I finished digging a hole they could both fit into. My arms were sore, but I found the strength to push them both in. I thought they deserved a better grave, but this was all I could do.

In the middle of the night, I buried my two best friends.

When I finished, I grabbed their machetes and stabbed them into the ground as a gravemarker and placed their helmets on top. This meant that anyone could come and steal from them, but I couldn't give them an unmarked grave.

It was done. I picked the shovel back up and made my way back to camp. Celeste was still sleeping when I returned.

I collapsed back down on my bedroll. For the first time in a while, I felt myself begin to cry like a child.

And for the first time in what felt like longer, I slept.


	2. Chapter 2

**-Celeste-**

Even though I slept like the dead, I felt like I was getting shot all over again.

Every night during my recovery, I had dreams of being stuck in that moment. Kneeling in front of Checkers, cold pistol pressed against my forehead. Sometimes I could still hear his speech word for word. Other times his voice and face distorted like he was speaking through a thick wall of glass. But that night, he was crystal clear.

The moment where Checkers first aimed the gun at me never failed to make my blood run cold. Checkers opened his mouth to say those final words. But this time, he said something else.

"Profligate?"

I could still feel the cold metal of the pistol pressing against my forehead when I woke up. It took my eyes a great deal of time to adjust and my brain even longer. I ended up staring at the ceiling of the abandoned camper for quite some time before I finally noticed Livius sitting next to me.

Oh right. I adopted a legionary.

"What time is it?" I groped around the floor of the camper for my glasses.

"Dawn."

My movements came to a halt. I couldn't even remember the last time I was up at dawn. Normally that was the time I went to bed.

"Why the hell did you wake me up this early?"

Livius shrugged and bowed his head. "You looked like you needed someone to wake you."

I found my glasses and slipped them on, but I averted my eyes from Livius.

"...thank you."

"Bad dreams, right?" Livius's voice softened. "I had them every night I was in that building."

I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against a rusted wall.

"I wouldn't exactly call them 'bad dreams'." Out of instinct I found myself rubbing the scar on my forehead and my stomach tightened into a knot. "I just keep having my attack replaying in my head over and over whenever I try to get to sleep. Unless I track Checkers down, I won't be able to have peace of mind."

"That's why I'm here, right?"

A smile tugged at my lips. "I'm not usually like this, kid. I just need a smoke."

I turned around and I was finally able to get a better look at Livius. It looked like somehow he had a worse night than I did. His large green eyes had heavy bags under them, his hair disheveled, and his clothes covered with patches of dirt. He looked miserable and downtrodden so I had to address it in the most gentle way I could.

"You look like shit."

He frowned and turned his head away from me.

"You don't look good either."

"No, I mean you look even worse than you did yesterday." I couldn't help but think back to our conversation the night prior. If I was having an effect on the kid, maybe that was a good thing. But this…

Livius just closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't, okay?" He sounded irritated, so I decided not to press the matter further.

"And," Livius stood up. "Asking me about my sleep isn't going to help you track down your attacker."

I crossed my arms and I couldn't help but smirk a bit. "You legionaries are determined, I'll give you that. Just don't forget about your own health. 'kay?"

He smiled back. "I'll think about it."

...

I paced around the campgrounds while Livius focused on shaving his face. Despite only using a straight razor and a helmet filled with water, he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at it.

"The closest town is Primm." I stopped pacing to begin packing up. "Trudy said my attackers passed through there. We should stop by and ask some questions."

Livius's razor stilled and he looked up at me.

"Really? You want to go there?"

"Is that a problem?"

His voice became quiet. "The NCR is occupying the town."

"There's a lot of NCR out here. You're going to have to get used-" I stopped and my eyes widened in realization. "Is that the town your squad was going to attack?"

"No comment."

I decided to drop the subject, but I was still determined to make a stop at Primm. Just when I finished packing the camp up, the sound of a man screaming cut through the dust-filled air.

Looking up, I saw an unkempt-looking man racing towards us. He was waving his arms around like a maniac and screaming at the top of his lungs.

I backed up and glanced down at Livius.

"How much damage can you do with that razor?"

His eyes locked on the wastelander. "Not sure, but I can try new things."

I reached for my gun and Livius raised his razor like it was a longsword. The wastelander fell to his knees and put his hands up.

"Oh thank god there's someone else out here." His voice sounded strained from all the yelling. "Please, you have to help me!"

Livius and I glanced at each other. I put my gun away but Livius held onto his razor.

"What's wrong?" I prepared myself to take anything he said with a grain of salt. Most people out here learned to fend for themselves after a while. If someone asked for help, there was a good time it was nothing but a scam.

"My girl." The wastelander seemed to calm down, but his voice was still laced with panic. "My girl is trapped up on the ridge. This place is swarming with geckos. Please, you have to help her!"

Livius spoke up before I could.

"Why don't you do it?"

The man looked stunned, as if he was not expecting such a question.

"Well, I-I don't have a weapon."

Livius and I both glanced down at the pistol the wastelander had strapped to his belt. He noticed this and pulled the hem of his shirt down over the holster in an attempt to hide it.

"That's just for emergencies. I mean, I don't know how to use it that well. And I'm out of ammo."

Livius put his razor away as the man seemed to be more of a nuisance than a threat.

"The time you spend talking to us or worrying about your gun is less time saving your 'girl'."

"You don't understand!" The wastelander was just short of groveling in front of Livius. "You have to help her! I'll do anything!"

I perked up and made my way between Livius and the man.

"50 caps. I'll help you for 50 caps."

The wastelander blinked.

"W-what?"

Livius had a similar reaction. He grabbed my bicep and pulled me aside.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, but the wastelander was probably still able to hear him.

I shrugged and whispered back. "We could use the money and he looks desperate."

"But we already helped that man back at the town."

"What? Are we only allowed to help a certain amount of people?"

"We're wasting our time."

"But we need the money."

Livius backed down, but he still seemed uncertain. I turned back to the wastelander.

"Okay, we'll help you for 50 caps."

The wastelander gave a sigh of relief. "You're a saint. Please hurry!"

"Oh no." I crossed my arms. "I need to make sure you're not scamming me. Pay up now."

He did a doubletake. "What?"

"Or at least give me 50% for now. You can pay the rest when we return with your girl."

"I..."

...

We ended up not helping the man.

I know. We missed out on some great opportunity to learn about friendship and caring for others. But I figured that this was a scam and if not, well he needed to work on his wasteland survival skills.

Even as we continued to make our way downhill towards Primm, Livius wouldn't stop complaining about the encounter.

"Filthy degenerate." He muttered under his breath. "Calls himself loyal, but he won't even make an effort to save the people who depend on him."

I didn't respond and just let him project in peace.

Soon the outer wall of Primm loomed over us. While Goodsprings managed to maintain an appearance that resembled the dusty old world west, Primm definitely looked more like a product of the Great War. The remains of the prewar buildings were propped up and accented with corroded metal. A rusted roller coaster snaked its way around the perimeter. A man in a tan uniform stood next to an NCR flag hanging limply on a pole. Livius seemed to notice this before anything else. Both his walking and complaining came to an instant halt.

"The NCR..." He trembled in his boots and I saw his fingers inching towards his rifle.

"Just relax." I pulled my bag further up on my shoulder. "They won't be suspicious unless you give them a reason to be."

He picked at the bandages covering his arms, but he nodded and continued onwards.

We approached the entryway and the NCR trooper came rushing towards us. I froze and only hoped that Livius wasn't pulling his gun out.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" The trooper didn't sound angry as much as frustrated. "Primm's off limits."

"I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again!" Livius blurted out, as if out of instinct.

I gave him a weird look before turning my attention back to the trooper.

"We're just passing through. What's wrong with the town?"

He sighed. "Convicts took the whole place over. The NCR has been doing everything in their power to try to keep it under control, but the threat of the Legion crossing over is taking up most of our focus as well as troops."

Livius still seemed uncomfortable, but I saw nothing but opportunities. I was afraid that the town was closed for political reasons. But convicts can be negotiated with. If I can get past this NCR trooper first.

"Could we just pop in for a bit? We won't meddle with any NCR business."

The trooper eyed us cautiously then shrugged.

"Fine. It's your ass on the line. Don't say I didn't warn you."

That was easier than I thought. "Thank you!"

He waved us aside and I pulled Livius along.

"Was I suspicious?" Livius whispered to me.

"Oh yeah, but it's all clear now. Also you don't have to whisper."

...

The inside of Primm looked more like a ghost town than Goodsprings did. The area was deserted. The only sign of life came from the dying neon lights from the hotel and casino. The metal structure of the roller coaster felt more like a cage than a prewar attraction. Livius and I continued to drift through the abandoned town until we found something propped up against one of the buildings-a dead body.

I knelt down next to the corpse. The man's skin was just starting to sink in, showing the first signs of decay. The remains of a tattered Mojave Outpost uniform pooled around what remained of his gunshot-wound-riddled body. I waved the flies away from his face so I could get a better look at his features.

"I know this guy." I examined his messenger bag. "He's a courier who came into my clinic a few weeks ago."

Livius crossed his arms. "You mean you gave him chems."

"I do medical work on the side." I stepped away from the body. "He came into my clinic all frenzied like someone was chasing him. Looks like they finally caught up."

"Did the convicts get him?"

I shrugged. "No idea. But let's keep moving; this place gives me the creeps."

Just when we turned away from the body, Livius and I made the discovery that we were not alone. Pacing back and forth in front of the casino were two men with shotguns in their hands.

Livius and I backed up against the wall.

"Remain calm." I began to raise my hands. "If I can just get close enough, I should be able to negoti-"

The men aimed their weapons at us and in a split second, Livius grabbed my arm and tossed me behind one of the nearby buildings. When the sound of gunshots came to a stop, the wall was riddled with even more smoking bullet holes and the dead body was even more of a disgusting mess.

Didn't look like there'd be much room for negotiation. I took a minute to catch my breath and Livius grabbed his rifle.

"Stay here." He leaned towards the outer corner of the house. "I'll take care of them."

"What, and you just expect me to stand around while you get shot at?"

He ducked back behind the building. "I'm a trained warrior. You have to trust me."

I fell silent and Livius ran out into the street. Once again, the air was filled with the sound of gunshots. As much as I just wanted to rush out there and help him, my body completely froze.

"_...the game was rigged from the start."_

I felt like I was going to collapse. Was this going to happen every time I was faced with a gunfight? It was like Checkers was right behind me with the pistol pressed up against the base of my neck.

My knees buckled and I leaned against the chipped wall for support. The gunfire stopped, but I could still hear the sounds of combat from the street. Even that was beginning to fade from my senses as I found myself sinking down further into my own mind.

A loud crack and Livius's scream cut through the air and pulled me out of my thoughts. Without thinking, I jumped out from behind the building with my pistol in hand.

Livius already took care of one of the attackers, but his friend still remained standing. The shotgun he held before was replaced with a rusted crowbar. He seemed shocked to see me emerge from behind the building and he began to charge.

I aimed my pistol, but my mind went blank before I found it in me to pull the trigger.

The convict swung the crowbar and a sickening crack filled my ears. Pain erupted in my lower leg and I collapsed onto the cracked asphalt below. Once again I found myself immobilized and at someone's mercy.

But this time I had a gun.

The sharp throbbing in my leg clouded my senses, but I raised my pistol with one trembling hand and fired two shots into his chest. I didn't even hear the gunfire. He fell to the ground and I pushed myself past him, dragging my injured leg uselessly behind me.

Livius was propped up against one of the buildings like the corpse we found earlier. His face was pale and covered in a cold sweat, obviously in pain. I got closer and saw that he was clutching at his ribcage.

He needed help. We needed help. But with convicts crawling around this town, I wasn't about to risk calling for a doctor. I reached out and wrapped my arms around Livius's shoulders as gently as I could. He fell against me like a ragdoll and allowed me to drag him through the streets.

Only a few seconds later, the pain in my leg became so intense I had to let go of him. Livius moaned in pain and folded up into a fetal position in front of the casino. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the dying neon lights. I wasn't going to allow myself to look at my leg.

So far this revenge plan, not going so great.

...

I saw Checkers again in my mind's eye after I passed out, so the physical pain I felt when I came to was more than welcomed. My eyes finally focused and I realized that Livius and I were moved to what appeared to be the back room of a casino. My left leg was bound in a splint and the once sharp pain I felt before was replaced with a throbbing one.

Livius was laying on a pile of blankets on the other side of the room. He woke with a start and began clawing at the bandages wrapped around his torso.

"Where…" he took a deep breath then winced and clutched at his side. "Where are we."

"A casino, I think." I grabbed a set of nearby crutches and made my way over to him. Livius placed both of his hands on the counter and propped himself up to get a better look into the main room.

"There are people in the other room, but they all have guns." Livius's voice was strained and he had to keep grabbing at his ribs to speak. He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a worried look. "Convicts?"

"Let me see." I hobbled my way over to the counter. The casino itself was a large wooden room lined with slot machines, but no one was using them. Instead, the people drifted around from one side of the casino to the other. Occasionally they would stop at the poor excuse for the bar, but for the most part they all seemed to be occupied and on-edge.

And they were all packing heat.

"They don't look like convicts to me." I stepped back from the counter and adjusted the crutches under my armpits. "Stay here I'll go check it out."

I heard Livius calling for me to come back as I shambled my way out of the back room, but he's surprisingly easy to tune out. I'm not sure what he was trying to warn me about anyway. Everyone in the casino was dressed in tattered old world clothes. Dresses and aprons on the women, overalls and button-down shirts on the men. Nothing about them really screamed "convict". The shotguns and rifles they all had at hand combined with the uneasy vibe and the boarded up windows and doors told me that I was looking at what was left of Primm's citizens.

None of them looked like a doctor to me either. Although after meeting Doc Mitchell I was starting to get the idea that hardly anyone "looked" like a doctor out here.

"Glad to see you're not dead, youngster. Most folks know better than to wander around like that."

The voice caught me off guard and I almost toppled over. I turned around as gracefully as I could manage on a pair of crutches and saw an elderly man wearing dust-coated overalls. He held a revolver at his side in his left hand but fortunately he wasn't pointing it at me.

"Thank you for helping me and my friend."

He waved the hand with the pistol dismissively. "Just be careful next time. You'll be safe in here."

"I'm actually here on business." I tried to push my glasses up without letting go of the crutches. "Did a man in a checkered coat ever pass through here?"

The man looked at me strangely, but he seemed to be recalling back. "Now that you mention it, I remember seeing that fellow and some thugs coming through town a few weeks ago."

My eyes widened. "Really? Do you know anything else? Did they say anything?"

He shook his head. "'Fraid if you're gonna have to talk to Deputy Beagle about that. He's been keeping tabs on them ever since they waltzed in."

"Okay, where is the deputy?" I looked around the casino, but no one really stood out to me.

"He's being held captive in the hotel across the street."

Oh of course he is.

"I see." I could see a faint outline of the hotel through the boarded-up window. I was in no shape to go against a building full of criminals, but there was no telling how long they were going to keep the deputy alive. I was running out of options.

I thanked the old man and hobbled my way over to the back room. Livius was still lying on his side and holding the side of his ribcage. I barely acknowledged him and I picked my bag up. Livius took notice.

"Are you going somewhere?" He sat up as far as his injury could allow him to. "Shouldn't you wait 'til your leg gets better?"

I managed to slide my bag onto my shoulder without toppling on the crutches. "Someone who has information on the man who shot me is being held captive in the hotel. I'm going to bust him out."

Livius sat up abruptly only to collapse back against the blankets.

"You can wait. You're still hurt."

I rubbed my forehead. "I don't know how much longer they're going to keep him alive. I have no choice."

"Celeste, please." He sat up again, making a point to be cautious this time. "I can't let you do this. I don't know if you're going to be okay."

I stopped in front of the door. "I've been avoiding too many fights. You got hurt because I couldn't step in."

"That isn't true!" Livius choked on his words. "He came at me with the crowbar too fast. It was my fault."

There was no way I was going to change his mind. He's stubborn that way. Instead of indulging him, I pushed the door open and left the room.

...

Being stealthy is hard. Being stealthy with a pair of crutches is near impossible. I nearly fell over after I managed to open the heavy hotel doors. The lobby was a complete wreck, but it was hard to tell whether it always looked like that. Perhaps the mangy smell and the peeling ceiling was part of the aesthetic.

I heard movement from behind the overturned counter blocking the rest of the hotel.

"Who's there?" A man's voice bellowed through the room and I saw him reach for a weapon.

"I'm not here to fight." I would have held my hands up, but I had to hold onto the crutches. "I'm here to negotiate for the dep-"

The man pulled out a gun and I hit the floor.

My heart was pounding in my chest and my breathing matched its tempo. The counter provided a decent-enough cover. Being as careful as I possibly could, I unwound my arm from one of the crutches and reached for my pistol. Images of Checkers flooded my mind and I aimed the gun.

I fired three shots at his chest and he fell to the ground, but not before alerting the other convicts in the hotel.

I began scampering on the floor like an animal, my broken leg acted more like a tail than a working limb. There was no time for me to regret this incredibly stupid decision. Scooping the crutches back under my arms, I made a shuffle-dash over the counter.

The lobby lead into a long room that was crawling with convicts. Without thinking, I ditched the crutches and dove into a nearby storage closet. Cornering myself wasn't the best idea. But the closet made it easier for me to shoot the convicts down without putting myself out there.

Until one of them busted out the dynamite.

A stick of dynamite came flying at me and I made a mad dash out of that closet. The pain in my leg brought tears to my eyes. The sound of blood roaring through my ears blocked out the sound of combat around me, but then the dynamite went off.

I fell to the ground. I could feel the sound of the explosion ripping through the inner workings of my ear. Warm blood dripped down my temples and along my jawline. A silent scream escaped my throat as I withered around on the floor. This was it. I was going to be killed by some convicts who were too stupid to not use explosives in an enclosed environment.

But death never came. My arms shook, but I forced myself to sit up. The cloud of smoke and debris cleared. A scorching hole was burned into the hotel wall, littered with the body parts and remains of the convicts.

Well what did they think was going to happen?

The crutches were long gone so I was forced to lean against the wall for support. My head was spinning, my ears were ringing, and my leg made a disgusting clicking sound whenever I used it.

My blood ran cold. More men began storming down from upstairs. Without thinking, I limped as fast as I could to a nearby door and threw myself into the hall inside.

The door slammed shut behind me and I pushed a desk in front of it just in case. Everything was eerily quiet now. My leg couldn't take the strain anymore. I collapsed to my knees and crawled my way through the hallway. My fingers were limp around the pistol in my hand. The hallway wasn't that long. But when you're in a world of pain and bleeding out of your eardrums, any distance might as well be the other side of the world. My face was wet with tears and blood. The pain in my head was just as intense as it was the day I was shot. My muscles felt like they were tearing with every little movement. I even started to notice new injuries I didn't register while I was running from the explosion. I should have listened to Livius. I wished he was there.

The hallway lead to another door and I gave a sigh of relief, like stepping into a warm bath on a cold day. Odds were the other side of that door just lead to more convicts coming after me. Honestly at that point, I didn't care anymore.

Using the last amount of my strength, I pushed the door open. Instead of the other side leading to a world of death, the only person in the room was a tied-up man.

_You're kidding me._

He said something, but I still couldn't hear him. I dragged myself over to him.

"Deputy?"

The man spoke again and I gestured to my bleeding ears. He seemed to catch on and he just nodded.

I cut the man loose and I felt my vision blacken. I collapsed against the cold wood floors as the deputy stood over me. Did he have a reason to help me out? I did rescue him but he still had a hotel filled with convicts to deal with and I'd just slow him down.

I fell unconscious before I could know which decision he took.

**-Livius-**

The old man, Johnson Nash, was poking wires into Celeste's ears. I didn't like it.

"So is she a robot now?"

Johnson Nash cut one of the wires and Celeste flinched.

"It's just a hearing aid, youngster."

He fiddled with the pieces of metal she now had in her ears and I began to feel sick. I should have stopped her. I mean I tried. I really tried to get her to not go, but she didn't listen. Even three days later I couldn't get over these feelings of guilt. Now she's part machine all because she couldn't resist going after an enemy.

If only she were a man. She would have been a great legionary minus the drugs and machine parts.

I watched Celeste poke at the "hearing aids" while we ate dinner. I drew a bighorner on a napkin.

"Do you have super hearing now?"

Celeste stopped messing with the piece of metal.

"No, I just hear normally. But now I can turn it off which is nice."

"Oh." I didn't feel like eating so I continued with my drawing. Celeste watched me from across the table.

"You draw?"

My fingers twitched around the pen. "Just a little. Sometimes. Not really." My face went hot with embarrassment.

"It's really good."

"Thanks. It's a bighorner."

"Yes, yes it is."

We went back to eating in silence for a few minutes then Celeste spoke again.

"How's your ribs?"

I shrugged. "I feel better. How's your...everything?"

She gave a small smile. "I can hear again, which is nice. But my leg took a lot of damage so it seems that we won't be going anywhere for a while."

I kept drawing the same line over and over. "I'm sorry for making you go."

Celeste frowned. "If I recall correctly, you were the one trying to convince me not to go."

"But I didn't do a good job."

She sighed and shoved a piece of gecko meat into her mouth.

"You don't have anything to worry about. I made it out okay."

I stared back down at my napkin. I couldn't get how she felt this way all the time. Just typical profligate foolishness, I guess. I already lost my squad. I wasn't going to lose the one person who showed me kindness too.

I was relying on a profligate. Caesar would be ashamed. Or maybe he already is. I remember one of my superiors told us he can read minds. I wonder if that's true.

A man with messy gray hair walked over to our table and sat down next to Celeste.

"Deputy." Celeste eyed him cautiously.

He shook his head. "Given you saved my life and all, you can just call me Beagle. Sorry 'bout the ears. So, I heard you needed my help."

Celeste reached up and touched one of the pieces of metal. "Johnson Nash told me you saw a man in a checkered coat pass through Primm."

"Did he now?"

"I'm trying to track the man down. Any information you may have would be useful."

"'fraid I got captured before I could get to know the gentleman, but I heard he's making a stop in Novac to meet with someone."

"Novac?"

"Yeah it's not too far from here. I'll draw you a map."

The deputy swiped my pen and napkin from my hands.

"Hey…"

"It's actually a straight-forward path if you stick to the roads." He flipped the napkin over and drew a series of lines on the back. "Just go south from here and keep following the roads until you reach the mountain pass."

He slid the napkin back to me, but his map bled through and ruined the bighorner drawing.

After the deputy left, Celeste continued to stare down at her food without moving.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She snapped.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She rubbed her scar and trailed her fingers down to her hearing aid.

"Sorry about the deputy ruining your drawing."

I looked down at the "map".

"I can't complain. You got robot ears because of him."

Celeste smirked. "Thanks for making my condition sound cooler. So next stop: Novac?"

"As long as you promise not to go into battles alone anymore."

She tapped her hearing aid. "You've got a deal."


	3. Chapter 3

-Celeste-

I'll be the first to admit that I could have handled that hotel situation a _lot _better.

Livius made a steady recovery, but my leg needed time to heal and I was still getting used to my hearing aids. My condition ended up making us stay in Primm for a lot longer than I wanted to.

Weeks went by and we were still stranded in that casino. Apparently I cleared out only a small number of convicts in the hotel, so the streets of Primm still weren't safe Even after all that time, the NCR never stepped in. Livius was very vocal about this, but I never saw any legionaries stepping up to lend a hand.

To his credit, Livius spent his time doing whatever he could do to help the citizens out, which is way more than I could have done given my condition. His legion recklessness made him perfect for running out into a potentially convict-filled town. He'd deliver messages, bring people their possessions back from their abandoned houses, scout the area-things like that. I remember hearing Johnson Nash suggesting they use Livius to send a message to the NCR about the state of the town. I'm not sure that plan would work out too well.

I looked over our "map" in an attempt to feel useful. Livius sat across from me, drinking water out of an old mason jar.

"We're way behind schedule." I slid the napkin around under my fingertip.

"We had a schedule?"

"No, but I still feel like we've been here way too long."

Livius shrugged and returned to his jar. "You got hurt. You have to get better."

I lowered my voice. "If a legionary gets hurt, do the others wait for them?"

Livius thought about it for a while. "Well...no. I mean if he's holding the rest of the squad back, we'll just let him die if there's no way for us to get him back to a camp." He paused. "But you're not a legionary."

I frowned and stared back down at the map. "I feel like I could use some Legion-like determination if I'm going to get through this."

"But you can't be a legionary. You're a woman and now you're a robot."

I sighed. "Livius, I'm not-"

Johnson Nash approached our table and I fell silent. He clapped Livius on the shoulder, causing him to choke on his water.

"I wanted to thank you for all the work you put into this town, youngster."

Livius looked up at him with wide eyes. "Of course, sir."

"Here." He set a warm bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla down on the table in front of him. "Not much of a payment, but I know you kids like your sugar water."

Livius still had a terrified expression on his face. "Thank you, sir."

Even after Johnson Nash left, Livius didn't open the bottle of soda.

I raised an eyebrow. "You gonna drink that?"

He lightly touched the side of the bottle. "Is this alcohol?"

"No. It's soda."

"Soda?"

"You know..." _Wow this guy's teenage years must have been boring. _ "It's a bubbly sugar drink. Or at least I think it used to be bubbly, not so much anymore."

He picked the bottle up and turned it over in his hands. "Is it a chem?"

I shrugged. "Well some sodas have caffeine in it, which is technically a drug in the sense that it's a mood-altering substance. I don't think Sunset has it, though."

Livius held the bottle out to me. "Can you check?"

"It should say on the label."

The bottle twitched in Livius's grasp and he glanced over to the side.

I narrowed my eyes. "You can read, right?"

Livius snatched the bottle back. "Legionary recruits are only brought up to fight with the glory that is Lord Caesar's army." He spoke in a hushed voice, as if he was talking to the soda.

"That wasn't my question."

He sighed and slumped back in his chair. "No. I never learned."

"That's okay!" I said with as much positivity as I could muster. "A lot of people out here can't read."

Livius slid the soda over to me. "Just read the bottle."

The label was faded from age, but I could still make out the warnings. The drink contained no caffeine, but this particular brand seemed to have a number of possible side effects including dizziness, kidney failure, nausea, tooth decay, joint pains, the works. Nothing too bad. I remember seeing some sodas back east that made your urine glow green and gave you cancer.

"No caffeine, no alcohol, no other chems." I gave him back the soda. "Just like I told you."

"Thank you." He tested the drink out at first by adding one drop of it to his soda, but I gave him a look and he drank it directly from the bottle. "It's...good?"

"Do you feel like a 'profligate'?"

Livius frowned. "My teeth hurt. Does that count?" He took another sip.

"It's a start."

...

-Livius-

I kept working for Primm. Johnson Nash only paid me in soda. It was okay. They tasted pretty good and soon I was able to drink them without mixing them with water. There was a part of me that felt bad about drinking a profligate drink, but I was already wearing profligate clothes and I do remember catching some legionaries doing worse things.

I was still worried about Celeste, but she seemed to be getting better even though her metal ears weren't going away. We were finally on the road again after all that recovery time. But our map wasn't as helpful as we had hoped.

"He didn't draw a compass rose or anything?" Celeste cupped her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun.

I turned the napkin around. "No. It's just a bunch of lines." After a while, I figured out where we were on the lines. "We're getting close to the mountain range."

"Mountain range?"

I pointed to a dot on the map. "The dot is the mountain range."

"It's Novac."

"What?"

She looked over my shoulder. "It says 'Novac' right next to it."

Oh.

"And that's where we want to go, right?"

Celeste looked down the road, almost completely covered with dust and sand. "Yeah. The deputy said Checkers stopped by to meet with someone."

I wondered what kind of name 'Checkers' was. But all profligate names were kind of weird. I looked back down at the map again.

"If we cut through this field, we'll get to Novac faster."

Celeste looked down at the napkin then across the road.

"I think we should stick to the roads."

The field was hidden behind clouds of dust, but I could just make out the road in the distance. "But you said we took too long in Primm. There's nothing out there and we can run."

Celeste frowned, continuing to stare out into the distance.

"Okay. Let's just make it quick."

I tucked the map into my pocket (pockets are my favorite part of profligate clothing) and I stepped off the hard road and onto the also-hard desert ground. I tied my bandana around my face so I wouldn't breathe in the dust and sand. I broke into a light sprint and I wanted to run at full speed, but Celeste wasn't that fast and I didn't want to leave her behind.

We were halfway across the field and things began to go wrong. My head began to feel wobbly and my vision turned brown. My legs buckled, but Celeste caught me before I fell.

"Livius?!" She grabbed my shoulders, her voice was filled with panic.

"I am okay." I regretted telling her about how legionaries will sometimes put down a squad member if he's holding them back. "My head just feels weird."

"This is really not the best time." Her voice shook, but she shoved her canteen into my face and forced me to drink. She must have found some water-cleaner-thing out here, because I never drank water that tasted so clean and pure.

My eyes darted to the side and I knew why Celeste sounded so worried. Scurrying towards us was a herd of giant radscorpions. Black-tipped blue claws gleaming even through all the sand that was kicked up. Do radscorpions come in herds?

I shoved the canteen out of my face, water splashed everywhere. "Start running. Get a headstart."

"Can you stand?"

"Yes, I just needed water. Go!"

She looked hesitant, but she helped me to my feet before fleeing towards the road. My mind was still spinning, but I found it in me to run at full speed. My plan was to confuse the scorpions by running around wildly and kicking up enough dust as I could. Even if they did catch up with me, at least they would leave Celeste alone.

Then I remembered that there was more than one. This is why I follow orders, not make them.

That thought didn't come to me until it was too late. My eyes were watering from the sand. My head began to throb again. The scorpions were getting way too close. Then a blinding hot pain broke out in my lower back. I screamed from behind my bandana and I fell to the ground. The last thing I remember was the feeling of a bug leg tracing across my back and Celeste screaming my name in the distance.

-Celeste-

After this, I hoped that were were done mindlessly rushing into danger.

I managed to pull Livius out of radscorpion hell. The kid's tall, but his frame is small enough so he wasn't a complete pain to carry across the desert while being chased by radioactive bugs.

I couldn't get us to Novac, but I did find an abandoned rest stop just outside the field. Once inside, I placed Livius face-down on the counter so I could get a better look at the injury.

The tip of the scorpion tail was still lodged into the small of his back and the skin around it was blue and cracked with veins. I swabbed the area around the wound so I could inject some med-x into him to numb the pain. After I sterilized my tweezers to the best of my ability, I slowly lifted the back of his shirt so I could get better access to his injury.

But it looked like this wound was nothing unusual for him.

The skin on his back was completely covered with scars. I know, what's the big deal? Everyone in the wasteland had scars. But not scars like these. His scars were not battle scars. These were deliberate, deep, red, and angry. They covered his back to the point where his skin was more scar tissue than flesh. Some were faded, but most looked like they were recent. I suddenly felt bad for ever complaining about the scar on my head.

Livius began to stir and I pulled his shirt back down so only his scorpion wound was showing. With the tweezers, I pulled the tip of the tail out of his back. He flinched.

"Ow."

"You'd be in a lot worse pain if it weren't for me." The tail lodged in there was my biggest concern, but I didn't know how much gross radioactive stuff was still in his system. Better safe than sorry. I began swabbing the skin on his arm. "Also you are still dehydrated. Soda isn't a substitute for water."

"Thank you." His head lolled to the side and he rested his cheek against the counter. "Celeste?"

"What is it?"

His body tensed. "You didn't see my back, did you?"

"No." I set the bottle of rubbing alcohol down. "Why?"

"It's nothing."

I tended to his wound in silence. Fortunately I did have the materials necessary for cleaning out radiation.

"Where are we?" Livius was still numb from the med-x, so there was a chance he couldn't feel anything I was doing to him.

"Gas station, I think. These places are usually a hot-spot for raiders, but this one seems to be empty. For now."

Livius picked at the counter. "There are a lot of buildings from before the war around here."

"Well, the Mojave didn't get that badly damaged. You should see the east coast."

"Do you know why the war happened?"

I sighed and fished around through my bag. "It's complicated. To go into how the war happened, you first have to know about prewar political relations, the history of communism, the paranoia over nuclear weapons, that kind of stuff." I began sterilizing the needle for the radaway. "Honestly I never paid that much attention to all that prewar stuff. Back east there was this huge emphasis on restoring America back to its former glory. I went along with it too, but it's not that simple. This country's damaged goods."

"Oh." Livius's voice was quiet. "Do you really think it was that political?"

"All wars are political. All modern ones, that is."

He shook his head. "That's not what I heard."

I set down the bag of radaway. "Okay, master historian. What do you think happened?"

"The prewar people were degenerates, so the god Mars sent the great fires down to cleanse the earth so Lord Caesar could take the throne."

There was no sarcasm whatsoever in his voice. Where was I even supposed to begin?

"By 'great fires', do you mean the nuclear bombs that melted the faces off of a majority of the population?"

"Whatever you want to call it."

"Well it looks like your 'Mars' took his sweet time getting us our so-called savior." I couldn't fault Livius too much. Some of his legion ideals were actually kind of adorable. "Lie still. I'm just finishing up."

"Profligates don't understand. But maybe if you weren't involved with chems, Mars will spare you."

"I'll keep that in mind." I stuck the needle into his skin. Livius didn't react much before during my treatment, but this he definitely felt.

"What are you doing?!" He began squirming and I had to hold him down so the needle wouldn't tear his flesh. "Get off me!"

"It's just a radaway." Trying to keep Livius still was trying to pin down a greased-up molerat (not an easy thing to do, by the way). "You still have traces of radiation in your body. This solution should take care of it."

Livius's movements became more and more violent. "You're drugging me?!"

"It's going to save you."

"No, no, no, no!" He clawed at the counter and his voice was shaking. "We're not supposed to use those things! Caesar forbids it!"

I held the needle in place. "He forbids medicine?"

"My body needs to be strong enough on its own." His breathing was heavy, the skin around his eyes were glistening with tears. "This is why you profligates are so weak. You are too dependent on science and chems. This is why Mars sent the fires!"

I felt a flash of rage run through me and I pulled the needle out, not hard enough to cause any damage but certainly enough to cause some pain.

"Fine. _You _can clean the radiation out of your system if you don't want my help." I began shoving my supplies back in my bag and I tossed the used syringes on the floor. This place was probably littered with dirty needles already. "Maybe you can ask Mars or Caesar to clean your wound. But last time I checked, they weren't the ones who fought through a gaggle of radscorpions to save your sorry ass!"

Livius didn't respond. I swung my bag over my shoulder and stormed over to the door.

"Oh and another thing: _everything _is made up of chemicals, dumbass. Water's a chemical. Is your Caesar going to ban that too?"

I slammed the door before he could respond.

The sun was just about setting by the time I stepped outside. I walked aimlessly down the cracked asphalt, one hand on my pistol and the other grabbing at my bag. Internally I was still fuming. I had a very limited amount of supplies on me and I wasn't about to waste them on someone who didn't appreciate my work.

But still, Livius is part of a cult. I know that Caesar's Legion is marked down as a gang, but I'm calling it: those fuckers are a cult. He even said himself that he was brought up only to fight, no questions asked. I knew plenty of people like that back home. People who would cling onto everything the president spewed over the radio, even if he was just going on about his goddamn dog. Of course those people weren't brainwashed into thinking medicine was bad, but the basic idea still applies. Livius was stuck in a state of forced ignorance and that wasn't his fault.

I sighed and began to turn around to go back to the gas station, but something else caught my eye. In the distance, I saw smoke. Huge black coils of puffy smoke snaking up towards the glowing orange sky. I pulled my bag further up on my shoulder. Smoke like that doesn't come from a simple campfire. There was something major going on. A raid, an attack, or maybe a riot. God I hope it wasn't a riot. Those things are terrifying.

I didn't feel comfortable having any of those things going on so close to our campsite and Livius wasn't in the right condition to check it out with me. My fingers twitched around my pistol and I made my way towards the smoke. I was not going to rush into danger this time. I was simply planning to scout around the area and see what was going on.

The smoke became thicker and heavier, but soon I was able to make out the outline of a town. Or at least what remained of it. The air smelled like blood and burning rubber. The decapitated heads were shoved onto spikes should have been my first clue to turn around. A dead body was carelessly draped over the town sign: Nipton. And in front of that was a stiff red flag with a golden bull painted on it.

Caesar's Legion.

I was so caught up staring at the flag that I almost didn't notice a man in a Powder Ganger uniform run out of the burning town. He was screaming at the top of his lungs but he sounded...happy? No, he sounded like this was the best gosh darn day of his life. I wanted to get some information out of him, but he ran off into the distance before I got a chance.

The sky grew darker and darker until the only light came from the fires burning within Nipton. I kept staring at the flag. This was the Legion. This was Livius's upbringing. This is the mindset that gave him his holier than thou ideals. I needed to punch something.

Call it morbid curiosity, call it stupidity. I waltzed right in. I needed to see it for myself. The damage only got worse. A huge pile of tires burned endlessly in the center of town and I could just tell someone was burned alive there. To the left was a long pathway lined with crosses on either side and each cross had some poor sucker strapped to it and left for dead. The scariest of all was the group of men standing in a perfect row on the other side of the crosses. All dressed like Livius when I first found him, all perfectly still, all just standing there as if they were waiting for me.

The man in the center strolled over to her as if he didn't notice the brutality around him. Though he was considerably shorter than the other men, he held the most power. So much power that I found myself unable to move. It wasn't long before he was standing right in front of me.

"You're frightened, aren't you." His voice reminded me of the radscorpion stinger lodged in Livius's back. His skin was the color of old bones and most of his gaunt features were covered with a hood that appeared to have been crafted out of the head of a coyote. "You're frightened that you will meet a similar fate to the degenerates around you."

I was unable to speak. The last time I felt this helpless in front of someone, I was tied down with a pistol pressed against my forehead. This man just had to speak and I was instantly reduced to bitch-mode.

"But you don't have to worry about that." He seemed to almost be amused by my fear. "Because we have a use for you."

I nodded. My mouth ran dry and I was choking on the smoke in the air. The man didn't seem too bothered by it.

"The degenerates must know the lessons Caesar's Legion taught here." He paced around me in a small circle. There was no way I could run now. "Can I trust you to spread the word? Especially to any NCR troopers you come across."

"Lessons?" My voice came out squeaky and pathetic.

He man stopped with a smug expression on his face like he was about to break into a boring business presentation. "You are standing in the remains of the wicked town of Nipton. A cesspool crawling with thieves, gang members, whores. The town didn't care who it opened its decrepit doors to. The legion was invited here to spring a sort of trap on some travellers who were passing through. Little did the perpetrators know that they were trapped as well."

I held my bag closer to my body as he continued speaking.

"Nipton loves to gamble, as do all degenerates. So I gave them what they wanted. We rounded up all the citizens and I announced a little game. The men you see strung up on crosses around you? You are looking at the so-called losers of the Nipton Lottery. Others were beheaded, burned alive, whatever punishment best fit their crimes in life. Only one ticket allowed the owner to leave unharmed. Each citizen stood clutched their ticket, praying that they would be the one to be set free. They didn't care as even their 'loved ones' were dragged away to be killed. All they cared about was their own survival."

My body began to shake and the man got uncomfortably close to my face.

"This town was wicked and the profligates much know about how the legion intends to deal with wickedness when we seize control of the Mojave. Do I trust you to do this for me?"

What was I supposed to say? _"Uh, actually Mr. Dog-Hat guy? Go fuck yourself."_ No. Bitch-mode. I nodded.

"Good." He stepped back and he was enveloped in the smoke and darkness. "I trust that you will not disappoint me."

The legionaries filed out of the town in an orderly fashion while I just stood there. My mind was going a mile a minute, but my legs felt like they were glued to the ground. I wasn't thinking about the task at hand, I wasn't thinking about the atrocities around me, I was thinking about Livius. If this was who he is, there was no way I would be able to face him again.

When I found it in me to move, I broke into a mad dash out of the town. I didn't run back to the gas station. Instead I bolted across the field as fast as I could. No radscorpions came after me this time, but I didn't care either way.

The adrenaline blocked off my other senses and soon I found myself on the top of a hill miles away from what remained of Nipton. I seemed to have stumbled across an NCR encampment. I collapsed to my knees to catch my breath and my thoughts. A man in a tan uniform came running over to me.

"What are you doing here? This is NCR territory."

I broke.

My voice was so shaky I was probably incomprehensible, but I told him everything about Nipton, the Legion, and the lottery. The man looked stunned and he stared towards Nipton with a worried look on his face.

"The Legion on this side of the Colorado? It can't be..." He shook his head. "Thank you for your information. I'm sorry you had to witness that."

They were kind enough to let me crash in their med bay, but I couldn't sleep. If I knew the Legion was like this, would I still have let Livius come with me?

Honestly I was still debating if I should go back to him after this.

-Livius-

Going into the wasteland alone while yelling isn't a good idea, but I had to.

"Celeste!" I waved the flashlight around. "Celeste, I'm sorry! My back still hurts but your chems worked! Just don't do that again!"

I was getting worried. It was night. She was probably dead. Everyone who relies on me dies and it's always my fault. Maybe this was Mars trying to teach me a lesson.

But I couldn't just sit around and do nothing. There was a chance Celeste was out there and I needed to find her. The night grew darker and darker, but I could see something burning in the distance.

"Celeste!" I ran at the burning thing as fast as I could. When I got there, I stopped. The fire was coming from a town that had recently been raided. There was no Celeste but instead there was the flag of Caesar's Legion planted just in front of the town sign. I nearly dropped the flashlight. The Legion was here. I could go home.

I still had my legion uniform in my bag, but I didn't bother to change. I ran into the town in the hopes of finding someone.

"Brothers?" I searched every corner of that town. "Are you there? I'm one of you!"

I kicked open the doors to some of the houses. Nothing. By the time I got to the last house, I was exhausted.

So I decided to stay. I've never been inside a profligate's house before. I expected there to be more chems and other bad stuff. But it seemed pretty nice. There was blood smeared across the walls, but I don't think that was always there. Two plates of cold meat were set out on the table. I tried some of it. It was kind of bland and weird-tasting. It didn't taste like it was cooked using fire. Weird.

I kept walking through the house. There were some pictures of people on the walls and on the shelves. A family. I heard this was something profligates took seriously. I even remember some of my fellow recruits talking about their families before they were saved by the Legion. I never had one of my own, but I had my squad. That should be enough.

I checked each room until I came to one in the back of the house. It was a happy room except for the blood. The walls were a cheery yellow when I shined my flashlight on them, but they were a blue-green in the dark. Propped up on a shelf were a bunch of little books and a fuzzy toy that was supposed to look like some sort of creature. I don't know what kind of creature it was. It had soft brown fur, beady black eyes, little ears shaped like half-circles, and little hearts sewn onto the bottoms of its feet and on its paws. I never saw a creature like that.

I picked it up. It was soft and its head flopped forward because it was so heavy. I kind of liked it. I sat down against the wall and held the toy, letting its head flop back and forth. I looked up and there was another large item across from the shelf. It was like a mix of a cage and a box with thick blankets coming out of it. I remember the caretakers had things like that back in Flagstaff. But then I noticed the blankets were almost completely soaked in blood.

Clutching the toy animal tighter, I walked over to the box-cage. I took one look inside. The flashlight fell to the ground.

This wasn't right. The Legion never killed children. Sure they'd enslave them and recruit them to fight for Lord Caesar, but there was no use in killing children. Children still had a chance to abandon their degenerate ways. They were still innocent. They could still be saved.

I fell back against the wall and I held the toy animal tighter. My fingers dug into the back of its fuzzy little neck and I found that I couldn't move.

…

The next morning, I wandered around aimlessly in the hopes of finding Celeste. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I know that the Legion would think that I deserved to be alone, but that isn't what I wanted. Celeste was my new squad now. I had to find her no matter the costs.

I did find her, or at least we found each other. I saw her walking to me. She looked tired and worn-out. Her yellow hair was sticking out around her head.

We didn't say anything. We turned and began walking down the road again.

She never once asked me about the toy animal sticking out of my bag.


	4. Chapter 4

-Celeste-

"Awkward" doesn't even begin to describe the feeling of having to travel with someone who belongs to a group of psychos. We didn't discuss the argument we had and I never told him about Nipton. I found that we were not the best at dealing with our differences.

So we had to walk in silence while on the inside I my mind was racing.

_Why am I still travelling with this guy? He's evil!_

_What, like the Enclave never did anything bad?_

_Not like this!_

_How do you know? Do you even know what they were using your research for?_

_I don't know! I just did my work without asking questions._

_Sounds like something Livius would say._

_Fuck you, subconscious._

I was so caught up in my internal argument that I would have walked right past our destination if Livius didn't stop me.

"Giant gecko." He pointed at something in the distance.

"Huh?" I looked up and saw the outer perimeter of a town coming up just over the horizon. There was a small scattering of houses built around a gated off section of the town. Just outside the gate was a 4 story tall statue of a dinosaur. "That's not a gecko, Livius. It's a dinosaur."

He looked really confused.

"...you know what a dinosaur is, right?"

He shook his head.

"They were these huge reptiles that died off way before humans even existed." I rubbed my temples. "Let's keep moving."

We began walking towards the town and this time Livius actually made an effort to slow down to match my pace. This was mostly so he could ask me more questions about dinosaurs.

"Were they really that big?"

"Some were bigger."

"If they died before humans, how do we know what they look like?"

"Fossils."

"...oh."

The buildings around the outskirts of the town provided us with shade for the first time in a while. I didn't realize how badly I was burning up until then. My skin was a bright pink, my hair and shirt were heavy with sweat, the back of my neck was on fire. The skin under my hearing aids was itching from sweat and sand, but I couldn't do anything about that. My tongue was itching for some water, but I ran dry a long time ago and I didn't want to pester Livius for some.

Speaking of which, the Legion must have an excellent desert training program because Livius didn't look phased at all. He kept a normal pace, his skin was tanned instead of turning my embarrassing shade of pink, and he still had a good amount of water saved in his canteen. I'd like to see how he'd survive in the East-Central Commonwealth humidity, though.

The gated-off area next to the dinosaur turned out to be a motel. Leaning against a toppled section of chain-link fencing was an old "No Vacancy" sign with half of the neon lights out. "No-Vac". Cute. At least we were one step closer to our goal and now we had a place to rest.

The motel door creaked open as we pushed ourselves inside. The main office was a large and rather bleak room with only a few faded posters to decorate the otherwise beige walls, but I was still more than happy to be in a room with cool air again.

"Welcome to the Dino Dee-lite Motel." An older woman with gray hair thrown back into a knot was sorting through some paperwork. Apparently we were in even worse shape than I thought because she gasped like she saw a ghost when she looked up at us from her papers. "Oh dear, I'll get you two a room fixed up right away. Please sit down."

I stepped up to the counter while Livius seemed more preoccupied with the toy dinosaur next to her computer.

"I see you've taken a liking to Dinky there." She pointed to the toy Livius was poking at. "If you're interested, you can buy your own at the Dino Bite gift shop inside the dinosaur statue."

"Uh, thanks?"

"How much for a room?" I reached into my bag for my caps.

"Let's see." She booted up her computer. "Good thing you kids got here right before the busy season starts. This place gets jam-packed around the holidays I'll tell you that. Yes, I can book you a room for...one hundred caps."

"A hundred-" That was nearly all the money I had left, but we needed to stay in Novac somehow. I sighed and coughed up the caps. Not literally. If I had the power to just cough money up, I probably would have just hired someone to go after Checkers.

She slid a key over to me after she took the caps. "My name is Jeannie-May and you come see me if you ever need anything, okay?"

"Actually, there is something you can help me with." I grabbed the key. "I heard a man in a checkered coat passed through here a while back. Do you remember anything about that?"

Jeanie-May wrinkled her nose. "Oh, I remember him. Strolled into my town with some of his Khan friends like he owned the place. City-folk. Always thinking they're entitled to everything they touch. I believe my records say that he went to go talk to Manny, our sniper. You can find him in the dinosaur's mouth. He should be able to answer your questions."

Gift shop and a sniper. This place has everything. "Thanks for your help."

"It's my pleasure. You two enjoy your stay now."

...

The motel rooms were all outdoors within the gated-off area facing a giant bare courtyard. Our room was on the second story next to the metal staircase. Livius leaned against the balcony railing while I shoved the key into the lock.

The door took a great deal of strength on my part to open as well. I kicked it open with my foot and felt around for the lightswitch. The red carpet was thick and caked with dirt and plaster that peeled off from the ceiling above. I'm not complaining. This was the first actual room I've stayed in since coming to the Mojave. Well, other than Doc Mitchell's house but bleeding out of my skull kind of ruined the experience.

The one thing that did ruin this experience for me was the shelf of liquor bolted to the wall furthest from the bed. I suppose it makes sense; everyone in the wasteland needs booze. But I still felt my blood run cold and my throat constricted as if I were choking. I sat down on a dust-covered armchair while Livius flopped on the bed. There was an old teddy bear carefully placed on top of the sheets. Livius picked it up curiously.

"What's this?" His voice was quiet, hesitant.

"It's a children's toy called a teddy bear." I leaned back against the chair. "I used to have one like that."

He looked down at the toy for an awful long time then held it out to me. I shook my head.

"No, I'm too old for those now."

Livius nodded, setting the toy aside. He fell backwards on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"I never laid on one of these before. I like it." He rolled off of the bed and made his way over to the small refrigerator in the corner of the room. "They have soda too."

"Hallelujah." I got up from the chair and moved to the bed instead, curling up into a ball.

Even though it was still mid-afternoon and Livius was experiencing what had to be the first sugar high of his life as a result of drinking all that soda, exhaustion took over me and I soon fell asleep.

...

When you have the same reoccurring nightmare, you begin to come to terms with it.

Every night was the same. I'd be tied down to the ground and Checkers would be standing over me, pistol to my forehead and his mouth spewing his awful pun-ridden speech. The same memory. Night after night. Eventually, I was able to talk back. I was never able to alter my nightmares, but it did feel good to yell a giant "suck my dick!" right before he pulled the trigger. The effect of the memory was weakening. I was gaining power over it.

So that first night in that motel, my bullet-scarred mind was probably thinking "well that one traumatic memory doesn't affect her anymore, let's whip out another!"

I reiterate: fuck you, subconscious.

I was five or six years old back in my Tennessee home. It was late. My brother was asleep. My mom stood behind me in the kitchen. She pleaded for me to go to bed while instead I stood right by the front door with my teddy bear in my arms, waiting for my dad to come home like he always did. The reports of the lab accident continued to crackle over the radio, even well after the incident took place. The radio and my mom's voice merged into one.

The door creaked open.

And I woke up. With the creaking door still ringing in my ears even though my hearing aids were turned down.

My breathing was heavy and my arms were clenched tight around the teddy bear Livius was holding earlier. I forced myself to sit up in bed. It was the middle of the night. Moonlight and weak neon drifted through the threadbare curtains. Livius was asleep on the far corner of the bed, but he was hanging half-off the side as a result from what had to be a ruthless sugar crash.

Without thinking, I found myself making my way over to the liquor shelf. That used to be my go-to response to moments like these. I'd get upset, I'd have a few drinks, I'd black out, then I'd wake up to find out I threw a table at my brother the night before. That's how it used to be.

My finger traced against the neck of one of the bottles of Scotch. It was dusty. It's been three years since I last had a good drink. And if anyone in the wasteland deserved a drink, it would probably be me.

But something snapped inside of me and my nausea ate away at me. I ripped my hand away from the shelf and I bolted out of the room and into the cool night air. Once outside, I lit a cigarette and it felt like the greatest thing in the world. It's so hard to find the time to smoke with Livius's morality policing stinking up the place. It's the little moments that count.

My chest heaved and my breathing was heavy as a result of both the cigarette and my upset stomach. I wanted to throw up right there, but I suppressed the urge by sucking more smoke in. I sat down on the balcony railing while I smoked, staring off into the desert beyond the border of the town. I could see the bright lights of Vegas looming over the horizon. Checkers was probably there right now. I wondered if he knew I was coming for him. I wondered if he even knew I was still alive. I wanted to keep that a secret.

I needed to go for a walk. I hobbled back onto the balcony and made my way down the rickety metal staircase. My shoes scraped against the dry packed earth beneath me. Other than the moon, the only light came from the small street lights in front of the dinosaur statue. I paced in circles around the courtyard to distract myself. I was coming to my third lap around when I noticed that there was a small wooden flight of stairs that lead to a door on the side of the dinosaur. With nothing else better to do, I checked it out.

The door was left unlocked, so I strolled right in. The "belly" of the dinosaur was a gift shop of sorts. A long counter lined with toy rockets and Novac snow globes snaked around the room. Everything was eerily quiet and unsettling that late at night. I was going to leave when I saw stairs and another door leading to what would would be the dinosaur's mouth. I decided to investigate that as well.

The door lead to the inside of the open dinosaur's mouth that faced the outstretch of the desert. The balcony seemed like an ideal place for a smoke break, but there was someone else out there with me. A man stood near the edge of the mouth, carefully aiming a sniper rifle.

"What are you doing here?" He turned around, but didn't remove his hands from the gun.

"I'm sorry." I began to leave. "I just got lost."

"Wait."

I stopped halfway through my step. The man let go of the rifle to face me completely. His face was stoic and emotionless under a pair of dark sunglasses, which was strange since he was probably the night sniper. On his head he wore a beret with a symbol I couldn't recognize in the dark.

"You just got here, didn't you?" Like his expression, his tone never changed.

I backed up and felt around for the doorknob. "Yeah, uh, I'm just passing through. I won't be here long, I promise."

The sniper fell silent, but he spoke up before I could step back through the door.

"Can I trust you?"

I stopped. "I'm sorry?"

"Can I trust you?" He repeated, but this time he was much more stern than before.

"I don't know? I mean I don't plan on being any trouble, but we don't even know each other for-"

"Good." The sniper cut me off. "I need you to do something for me. I can't trust anyone else in this town. Most of them won't even look at me anymore."

My hand stopped feeling around for the door. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but it either involved murder or sex. Or possibly both.

"Um, what are you talking about?"

He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the rest of the desert.

"The Legion came here a while back while I was on duty and kidnapped my wife. They didn't come for anyone else. They just swooped in and took her while there was nothing I could do." His hand clenched around the edge of the dinosaur's mouth, but his voice remained steady. "Someone invited them here."

I felt my blood run cold. "You want me to find your wife?"

"My wife's dead." He snapped. "But the bastard who invited the Legion still lives here unharmed. I want you to find him and bring him to me."

I choked, but nodded. "Okay, I'll see what I can do."

"Good." He took his beret off and handed it to me. "When you got him, bring him in front of the dinosaur while I'm on duty and put the beret on. It will be our signal. Remember, I work nights."

I took the beret and stepped back. "Of course. Oh, and my name's-"

"I think it would be best if we didn't exchange names." He turned back to his rifle.

"Oh."

I left the sniper nest and I stuffed the beret into my pocket. I was completely lost. Where was I supposed to begin? It wasn't like I could just return to the sniper and give him his hat back. I sighed and walked out of the dinosaur. The least I could do was make an effort but leave before anything major happened. Then I remembered that Checkers stopped in Novac to meet with the sniper. Were they in cahoots or something?

I didn't have much of a choice if I needed his help. After leaving the gift shop, I made a beeline over to the main office of the motel. It was way past closing time and the room was eerily empty, but I assumed this place must have some records on hand. I moved behind the counter and turned on the computer. It didn't take long for me to break into the system as it was nowhere near as heavily protected as the computers back home.

Half an hour into searching through files I realized I was getting nowhere fast. Jeannie-May kept records on everyone that passed through town, but none of them stood out. No one's record said "oh and sometimes they invite legionaries over. They're quirky that way".

She did have records of me and Livius. We were marked down as "eloping?" in our description. If I wasn't trying to be discreet, I would have changed that to "on a mission to restore justice in the Mojave".

I did find a record on Checkers too. Still no name and not a lot of information. All his file said was he and the Khans passed through to talk to Manny, the daytime sniper.

Time was slowing down. The green text from the computer was numbing my eyes. I was just about to give up, but then I found a file hidden away in the system.

"Bill of Sale"

The file took a great deal of energy to break into, but I did it anyway. When I got through, I was greeted with a wall of green text:

_"We[...]have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford[...]the exclusive rights to ownership and sale of the slave Carla Boone for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps[...] Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document. M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al."_

I couldn't read the entire file. I couldn't get through it. I just sat there and let the text burn into my retinas. The Legion was worse than I could have ever imagined. Yes, Nipton was bad. But Nipton was "raider bad". I've seen raiders hang people by meat hooks from the ceilings of abandoned warehouses. I've seen towns littered with scalps and internal organs of people who messed with the wrong group. It wasn't even the slavery in the document that got to me. I've seen slavery. Back home, we had a serious problem with slavers breaking into people's homes and taking whoever couldn't run fast enough. Shit out here sucks. That's why we have so many conflicting systems trying to fix it.

But what got under my skin was how this transaction took place. The Legion didn't burst in and start capturing people at random like slavers usually do. This was a business deal. It wasn't about power. It wasn't about being threatening. This was normal. This was a normal deal that happened with the woman who called me "dear" when I first stepped into this town.

I thought I was going to be sick.

I closed the document, but I didn't bother to lock it again. I leaned back in my chair and sat there for a while. This was Livius's life. Or was it? Did he know about this? Livius always seemed pretty ignorant when it came to...everything, but what about this?

This wasn't the time to think about that. I forced myself to sit up and I checked the computer for one last record. After I found what I was looking for, I stood up and made my way to the door.

Her address was listed in her file so finding her wasn't the difficult part. No, the difficult part was gathering the strength to knock at the door. The beret in my pocket felt like it was made of lead. I took a deep breath and pounded my fist against the doorframe.

Jeannie-May answered the door, clearly frustrated but was trying to not let that show.

"It's awfully late. Is everything okay?"

The knot in my stomach tightened and the throbbing in my head increased.

"I was smoking outside and I saw someone run out of your office." My voice was trembling, but I could only hope I sounded convincing. "Last I saw them they were making their way out of the town."

Jeanie-May cursed under her breath. "I think the sniper would have noticed something."

"I didn't hear a gunshot or anything."

She sighed. "Well I suppose there's no harm in checking it out. I'll contact the NCR tomorrow morning."

I didn't take any time to reply and ran down the road towards the dinosaur while Jeanie-May trailed behind me. I still couldn't believe I was pulling this off. Why was she trusting me like this?

When we were in the sniper's range, I moved one foot in front of the other so I toppled to the ground. Jeannie-May came to a halt.

"Oh dear, are you all right?" She moved in to help me up.

"I'm fine." My hands and arms were a little scratched up, but that was nothing. As I got to my feet, I pulled the beret out of my pocket and placed it on my head.

Jeannie-May didn't even have time to react. The second the rim of the hat touched my hair, her head exploded. Her body was blasted back by a few feet. Her blood splattered against the dry desert earth.

I was paralyzed. I wasn't even thinking about the document anymore. It occurred to me that this is what I must have looked like when Checkers shot me. The patches of her face that were still intact continued to stare off lifeless and emotionless. Blood poured in a gelatinous soup around her. I saw my own body like that in my mind's eye. It hit me that if the circumstances were just slightly different, I would have ceased to exist. My drive to destroy Checkers burned stronger.

I was in a daze when I drifted back to the sniper nest. I returned the beret and in exchange the sniper gave me a bag of caps.

"This is all I can spare. But I have one question: how did you know?"

"The bill of sale is in the office computer." I kept my gaze downwards at my feet. "I kept it unlocked. You can delete it if you don't want any evidence tracing back to you."

He was silent for a while.

"Thank you."

I nodded in response and trailed back to my motel room.

Livius was still asleep, but I couldn't look at him. I paced around the room for what had to be an hour. My mind felt numb. My ears were ringing no matter how many times I adjusted my hearing aids. My stomach felt like it was going to burst through my midsection. I needed something to calm me down.

Without thinking clearly, I grabbed a bottle of scotch and raced to the bathroom. My fingers trembled as I opened the bottle. I don't even remember drinking it, but I know I did. I can't recall the taste or how the liquid felt in my mouth. But the sensation was all too familiar.

I collapsed in the bathtub, spilling a quarter of the scotch on my shirt in the process. My mouth dry heaved and whimpered around the lip of the bottle. My mind relaxed, but once again I was transported back to my old home back east. Watching that creaky door open on loop forever.

-Livius-

I woke up at sunrise like I always do, but this time my head hurt a lot. I decided I was no longer going to eat profligate food after this. They always made me feel weird.

I thought that I should try to get back into my morning training routine. Pushing myself out of bed, I did fifty pushups, twenty situps, and then I went outside and ran a few laps around the town. Normally I would do more, but I didn't have a trainer watching over me so I was allowed to slack off.

When I was just about to return to the motel room, I changed my mind and went to check out the building with the sniper instead. Celeste said we needed information from the sniper. I thought that I could get the information first then we could leave once she woke up.

I pushed the door to the dinosaur open. The main room was only lit by some light that seeped in through some cracks in the walls. I saw the tables were lined with smaller dinosaur statues. I picked one of them up. It was hard to believe those things all died out. They had sharp claws, a large mouth with pointed teeth, strong builds. I kind of liked them.

There had to be a hundred dinosaurs in the room, so I messed around with them for a while. I arranged them in a military formation. I pretended I was a centurion who was leading his army of dinosaurs to battle. I had different squads stationed all around the room. Under the counter, behind the shelves, in the storage closet.

My lead dinosaur was just about to claim victory when I noticed a man with dark glasses and a red hat was standing in the far corner of the room. He looked confused. I dropped the dinosaurs.

"I was just...looking around?"

He walked over to the door.

"I think you should leave."

I nodded and scampered to my feet. We both left the dinosaur at the same time. While I stepped outside, I noticed him staring at my arms and frowning.

I remembered I forgot to cover my tattoos.

My hand wrapped around the black bands and I dashed back to the room without thinking twice.

Celeste wasn't in bed when I got back, but the bathroom door was closed so she was in there. I sat down on the bed and waited for her to come out. Minutes passed. Then hours. I was starting to get worried.

"Celeste?" The bathroom door was still closed. "Are you okay?"

I pushed the door open as carefully as I could and stepped inside.

The bathroom was destroyed. The sink was smashed in, several holes were punched into the brittle walls. I found Celeste. She was curled up in a ball inside the tub. I couldn't tell if she was sleeping or passed out. Is there a difference? She was clutching a brown bottle in her hands and her shirt was soaked with whatever was inside it. I backed up against the bathroom wall. I had no idea what to do. Anything I did could ruin everything. But I didn't want to stand around and do nothing. That's what I always did.

Keeping my eyes on her, I ran my hand under the sink that was still spewing water and flicked some of it onto her face. She didn't even flinch. I kept trying over and over. Never got a reaction. At one point, she started making choking noises. I moved her head so it looked less uncomfortable in the tub and the noises stopped. Still no reaction after that.

I found a bucket and flipped it over so I could sit down and watch her. I was still clueless. This was a profligate problem, something I knew nothing about. But she saved me many times. I couldn't leave her or cause her any harm.

She was my squad now.


	5. Chapter 5

-Celeste-

Even when I drank regularly, I don't think I ever had a headache as bad as the one I got when I woke up. My ears were ringing. My neck ached from lying in the bathtub all night. I coughed and spat a mixture of drool and vomit onto the already-ruined tile floor. Just sitting up more caused my vision to go blurry. I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand

The empty bottle fell off of my thigh as I tried to sit up, only to fall back down again in shock when I saw I wasn't alone.

"How long have you been there?!"

Livius was perched on top of an overturned bucket placed in the far corner of the room.

"I haven't moved since dawn."

I tried to get out of the tub again and Livius rushed over to help me. I got lightheaded and it took all of my willpower not to collapse on top of him. How could I have been so stupid? What the hell is wrong with me?

I was so wrapped up in my own intrusive thoughts, I hardly noticed Livius was speaking to me.

"What is it?" The words slurred out of my mouth like drool.

Livius continued to prop me up with his own weight.

"We were supposed to talk to the sniper. Are you going to be okay?"

I almost forgot about that. My energy began to seep back into me. Destroying Checkers would be more than enough to get me out of this. Not only that, but being able to get some answers would be wonderful. I was so confused, I just needed some sort of closure. This was beyond vengeance. This was about restoring some sense of natural order in my mind.

My fingers traced over the scar on my temple. My hair was starting to grow back in, almost covering the wound. It had been a while. All the more reason not to waste my time with personal issues. We'd get the information we needed, then we'd go straight to Checkers and make him answer for his crimes.

Then what? I haven't thought about that.

My original plan was to help Livius get back home, but I don't know if I could do that anymore. I knew who he was. I knew where he came from. How could I allow him to return to that? His people were slavers who crucified an entire town. This was not something I could get behind.

Of course it didn't help that Livius appeared to be so concerned for my well-being.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" He had to half-carry me out of the motel room. "I can go by myself if you want."

I managed to get cleaned up to the best of my ability, but I still felt like a disgusting mess.

"No. I'm fine."

"I saw you were drinking alcohol. You know, Caesar says that dependence on-"

"Livius, I swear I will punt you halfway across the Mojave if you finish that sentence." I wasn't thinking straight, but something inside me clicked when I saw the look of genuine hurt on Livius's face. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged and helped me down the stairs. "I've had worse things yelled at me during training."

...

I was silent the entire way through the gift shop. Instead of the man I spoke to the night before, someone else was standing in the dinosaur's mouth. He was tan with thick black hair and gentle wisps of facial hair over his lip. He noticed us, but he wasn't nearly as uninviting as the previous sniper.

"Can I help you?"

My mind wasn't in the right state of mind to allow myself to speak, so Livius stepped in for me.

"Are you the sniper?"

He smirked and patted his rifle. "Seems that way. Manny Vargas. So, you just sight-seeing or what?"

"Hey, uh, we're trying to find a man in a checkered coat. You see, he shot my friend and we heard he came to talk to you, I think. So...maybe you could help us out?"

_Bless his heart._

Manny seemed amused. "Not surprised that he made some enemies out here. Yeah, I know some of the Khans he was travelling with. They could give you more information on him than I could."

"That's good." Livius stepped closer to me in case I needed to collapse again. "Where are they?"

He looked over his shoulder and out the dinosaur's mouth. He was quiet for an awful long time.

"Actually, how about we help each other out?"

I felt my entire body recoil. I wanted to scream _"just give us the fucking information!"_, but I didn't have the energy.

"What do you need us to do?" Livius seemed to have forgotten that we couldn't afford to waste time anymore. I could only hope that the task would be a suitable distraction from my current mental state.

Manny sighed and sat down on a crate propped against the dinosaur's gums. "This place, Novac, it's my home. I lost many homes in the past, so I want to keep this one intact."

He stared over the mountain range. "The only way we can keep this town running is by selling the junk from the old rocket test site down the road. Unfortunately, some ghouls took it over a while back. Resources are running dry. We just need someone to go in and clear the ghouls out."

I found it hard to believe that Novac would have to rely on rocket scraps to stay afloat. Especially considering that Jeannie-May was charging one hundred caps for a motel room. Unfortunately, I didn't think Novac would be able to rely on that anymore.

Also, ghouls. I wasn't going to like this.

But Livius was the one with the clear mind, so he was the one calling the shots.

"We'll make sure all those ghouls are cleared out, sir!"

Manny laughed. "That's the spirit!"

...

My physical strength came back when we started walking down the road to the test site.

"Goddamn towns making us run errands for them." I muttered under my breath. "First Goodsprings and their Powder Gangers, then Primm and their hotel, then that creepy dog-head guy, now this. I'm getting sick of this shit."

Livius gave me a weird look. "Dog-head guy?"

I shook my head. "Nevermind."

"Also you do know we didn't have to help any of those towns, right?"

"I said, nevermind."

I was still exhausted and emotionally drained, but it was nice being able to walk without having to lean on someone. I also drank the remains of our water supply. I reassured Livius that we could just refill it at the test site.

Speaking of which, Livius was eerily quiet while we walked. He was like a soldier. I mean, he was always a soldier but I was getting the feeling that he was starting to relax around me. But this time, he was tense, silent, dedicated. It was strange not having someone to bounce off of during long trips. Even after Nipton we managed to banter a little bit. Not here. I wondered if we were reaching the limits of our partnership.

"So, ghouls." That was my pitiful attempt at breaking the silence. "You ready?"

Livius already had his rifle out. "I killed plenty of ghouls. They hardly know how to put up a fight."

"Are we talking feral or non-feral?" I could already tell I was going to regret asking this question.

He scoffed. "What's the difference?"

_There it is._

I sighed and kept moving forward. "Feral ghouls will attack you senselessly. Non-feral ghouls will talk to you first. Pretty big difference."

"They're still abominations."

"Livius..."

He shushed me and dragged me behind a worn-down concrete wall. The end of the road spilled into a bowl-like valley. The Repconn Test Site stood covered in a thick layer of sand and rust. The outer steps and the courtyard were crawling with fleshy feral ghouls.

"This is your chance." Livius kept his hands on his rifle. "I saw your chemicals. Do you have something that could kill everything in that building?"

I looked at him in shock. "We can't kill all of them!"

Livius looked very confused. "They're just ghouls. Look at them." He pointed over the wall with his rifle.

"Those are feral ghouls, Livius." Still, my hand went to my hip for my pistol. "There may be some non-feral ghouls in the test site."

Livius looked like he was about to argue with me again, but he held his tongue. He sighed and cocked his rifle.

"Fine. We'll do this the slower way."

"Seems like this would be the proper legionary way."

He frowned. "Let's go."

There were only a few feral ghouls roaming around outside the test site and Livius managed to take them all down before I could crawl out from behind the wall. I wasn't surprised. Feral ghouls were barely more than walking corpses. Their battle strategy was to let out a horrifying screech then flail blindly at whatever was attacking them. The mind of a feral ghoul was too damaged to process most of what went on around them, so I didn't feel too bad when it came to wiping them out. Is that horrible of me to say?

Livius stepped over the corpses and waved for me to follow. We made our way up the stairs leading to the front doors and pushed our way into the front office. The doors creaked open and lead us into a cold room with a computer station, two doors on either side, and the ceiling half-fallen in. That didn't help me feel any more safe.

The second my foot hit linoleum, the sound of crackling and static filled the air. I looked around for the source and noticed an intercom on the far side of the room. I reached for my hearing aids and after a few moments of adjusting I heard the raspy sound of a ghoul's voice start to come in.

"Hello? Who's there?"

I brushed past Livius and made my way over to the intercom. Mentally, I wasn't the best. But I didn't want to risk having Livius try to talk to a ghoul. Nothing good could come from that.

I pushed the talk button. "Where are you located?"

The ghoul on the other end sounded surprised.

"Welcome, dear sister! Your days of struggle are over!"

"What?" I forgot to press the talk button, but the ghoul continued before I could repeat myself.

"Take the right hallway then go up the stairs. The Great Journey will be awaiting us all!"

The static stopped and the room went silent again. It took me a while to process what happened.

"Did he...think I was a ghoul?" I rubbed my throat.

Livius shrugged. "You do smoke a lot. Kind of makes you sound like one."

I sighed. "You should have been born in the commonwealth. The Enclave would have loved to use you for their PSAs."

"The ghoul said we have to take the right hallway." Livius unsheathed his machete. "You think there are more 'feral' ones in here?"

I looked back at the intercom. "If there were some outside, I imagine the building would be filled with them. But we are meeting with a ghoul, so let's try to not kill all of them."

...

Livius didn't listen to me, but I don't blame him.

Each winding hallway we went down was crawling with feral ghouls and they all swarmed us.

Livius fought them all off with his machete while I trailed closely behind. I wasn't much help as my only weapons were guns and explosives. I had the hearing aids to show that using them in an enclosed environment is not a good idea. My only close-range weapon was a small knife with a blade roughly the size of my little finger. I mostly relied on Livius to fight through the swarm of ghouls. It did disturb me how good he was at fighting them, though.

The hallway opened up into a large warehouse with rusted floors and walls. A rickety metal staircase snaked its way around the room and up to a ledge hanging above us.

And the room smelled of rotting meat.

With all the ghouls I was running into, I thought I was used to the scent of rotting flesh. Not the case. The air in the warehouse was steamy and humid with the scent. The carcass of a bighorner was left baking in the sticky air. Bits of flesh and meat were littered around the area like something out of a raider's interior decorating magazine.

Livius noticed the smell too and covered his face with his bandana.

"We should have destroyed this place."

I didn't have the same luxury as him, so I just pulled the collar of my shirt over my nose.

"Well we're not. Let's get going."

Not only did the staircase creak and rumble under our weight, but parts of it were already collapsed. One failed attempt at leaping over the gaps and you'd come crashing down on the slimy warehouse floor. That's if you didn't gore yourself on the jagged metal edges, of course.

Livius got over this easily because he's spry and lacks critical thinking skills. For me, each jump required a running start and at least five minutes of self-motivation. After that acrobatic feat, we made our way to the upper level. The only thing up on the ledge was a large metal door and another intercom on the wall beside it.

"I'm opening the door for you, my sister." The ghoul's voice crackled in through the speaker.

"You are safe now."

Livius put his machete away. He looked like someone dropped him into a pool of ice water.

I took a deep breath, only to dissolve into a fit of coughing from the putrid air, and pushed my way through the door.

The door locked behind us. Compared to the previous room, this one was incredibly pristine. The walls and floor were a blinding white. The hallways were lined with bookshelves. Also, it looked like Livius and I were the only humans there. Ghouls roamed freely through the halls, each one dressed in dark brown robes. Livius visibly tensed up next to me and backed up against the door.

"What sort of joke is this?!" The intercom-ghoul's voice rang through the halls, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a short balding man in a labcoat came running at us. And yes, he was very much human.

"Wait, are you the one that lead us here?" I didn't want to sound rude to the owner of this place, but I was still very confused. "But I thought-"

"If you're a human, how come you sound like a ghoul?"

_Thank you, Livius._

The not-ghoul scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about, smoothskin. And you." He pointed a smooth finger at me. "Don't you know how disrespectful you're being? Imitating the voices of our people? You should be ashamed."

To me this whole situation felt like the pot calling the kettle radioactive, but I didn't speak up. Livius still looked like he was having difficulty processing the whole thing.

"But you're-"

I elbowed Livius in the side before he could continue. "We're not here for argument. We want to talk to whoever's in charge. It's about an impending danger."

Not-ghoul looked surprised. "Are you here to help us with the Great Journey, smoothskin?"

"Sure, I guess."

Not-ghoul stepped back and folded his arms. "Jason is upstairs. Don't start anything. I'll be keeping my eyes on you, smoothskin."

Livius and I made our way up the stairs. The entire time we passed more robe-decked ghouls, each one muttering things about the "Great Journey" and "praise the creator".

"I don't like this." Livius rubbed his arms as if he were cold. "They're all dressed the same and they keep babbling nonsense. It's creepy."

I had at least twenty smart-ass responses to that, but I couldn't decide on one so I stayed silent.

The second story looked much like my lab back home. Lab stations stretched from one side of the room to the other, tables lined with microscopes and beakers. Livius's discomfort was becoming more and more obvious. I had to drag him through the lab just to get him to move.

There was one ghoul who seemed to stand out among the rest. Instead of the long robes, he wore a simple set of torn pants and shirt. His skin gave off an eerie green glow. A Glowing One. I was way too familiar with this type of ghoul. I came to a stop so there was at least a few yards of space between us.

"Greetings, wanderer." Unlike the coarse voices of the other ghouls, this one's was smooth and warbly as if he were speaking to us through a glass tank. He stepped closer to us and I moved back to keep the distance.

"Are you in charge here?"

"I am not in charge, wanderer. The creator is. I am Jason Bright, a shepherd leading his flock to the Great Beyond; a place where us ghouls can finally be safe from prejudice."

"Well you might want to get on that sooner." I could just feel the radiation glowing off of him. "Because your presence in this building is upsetting the nearby town."

He sighed. "Typical humans." Although he didn't sound angry, he sounded sad or disappointed. "We've been trying to leave this site as well, but it's been hard. However, part of the Great Journey is overcoming the obstacles life presents us. And I do believe the creator sent you two here for a reason."

When I was younger, I would have dissolved into a bitter atheist rant but now I didn't see the point.

"If we help you on your 'Great Journey', will you leave this establishment?"

"That was the plan from the beginning, wanderer."

I looked over at Livius who was glaring at me with his "why can't we just kill them?" face.

"We'll be happy to assist you with your journey, Jason."

Jason gave a radiating smile-literally. "You honor me, wanderer. The rockets in the basement were meant to take us to the Great Beyond. They're almost ready, but Chris, the man who greeted you, has been running into some problems. By any chance, do you have any experience with rockets?"

I glanced over to the side. "My specialty lies in general chemistry, but my dad worked with rockets a lot. I may remember some of the stuff he told me."

"Excellent." He looked at Livius who recoiled in response. "And you, young man?"

Livius shrugged, still avoiding eye contact.

Jason clapped his hands together. "Well I still believe the creator sent you here to guide us. I'll have Chris escort you to the basement."

...

The long walk from the lab to the smelly warehouse was an awkward one indeed. The entire time I wanted to ask Chris "Why do you think you are a ghoul?", but I had a feeling he wouldn't listen to me. Livius trailed behind us, taking each step as if he were navigating through a minefield.

Chris lead us to the hallway just outside the warehouse. To our left was a small set of stairs that went downwards to the basement door. We made our way downstairs, until I noticed Livius wasn't following us.

"What are you doing?" I stopped mid-step and turned around. "You coming or not?"

Livius's hand gripped the thinly plastered wall. His face was pale and his breathing was heavy.

"Is there another way we can do this?"

I ignored Chris's groans of frustration and marched back up.

"Livius are you...claustrophobic?"

He blinked at me.

"Claustrophobia, you know...fear of small and cramped spaces?"

Livius tried to laugh off my suggestion, but his voice still sounded shaking. "Do I look like a coward to you?"

"You are freaking out about going into a basement."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "You've seen how worn-down the rest of this place is. The entire building could fall on top of us. What if we run out of air down there?"

"We won't run out of air, Livius."

I could see Livius trying to think of another excuse, so I stopped him.

"I imagine your skills won't be as effective around rockets anyway. How about I ask Chris if there's something else you could do?"

His knuckles tightened against the wall, but he nodded.

I turned back around to face Chris, who was just about done with my bullshit.

"We probably don't need more than two people looking at the rockets. Is there something else my friend could do?"

Chris waved his hand. "If the kid wants to make himself useful, get him to go buy some thrust control modules."

I scampered up the stairs to Livius and handed him my bag of caps.

"I don't know if this is enough to buy some thrust control modules, but there has to be a merchant around who's willing to haggle."

Livius swiped the caps out of my hand. "I'll be back soon."

...

-Livius-

I'm not a coward. But I did not want to go down those stairs. I don't like small rooms. If we were attacked, there is no room to fight back when the room is small. I was serious about the basement running out of air or the building collapsing on top of us too.

It was so relaxing being out of the test site and under the sunlight. Not being around ghouls was nice too. I don't know why Celeste was so insistent about saving them. Profligates are weird.

The rough road scraped against my feet. Over the horizon I could see a small shop set up next to a junkyard. I made my way over to the chain-link fence because I saw a dog guarding the area.

"Hello, dog." I dropped to my knees and held my hands out. He looked like some of the hounds back at the fort. His fur was black with wood-brown speckles. He seemed aggressive since he was a guard dog, but he was still cute. I stayed in front of him until his ears flattened and he started to relax.

"I see Audaz has taken a liking to you. At least I hope my guard dogs aren't that easy to tame."

I spun around and saw an old lady in a tattered brown dress.

"I'm good with dogs." I reached out to pet one of the dog's fuzzy ears. "Do you sell stuff here?"

She crossed her arms, smirking a bit. "Yes. I'm Old Lady Gibson. I sell junk, scraps, trash, you name it."

I was about to ask if she was always called that, but I figured it was a stupid question. "Okay, do you have thrust control modules?"

Gibson thought for a moment. "I believe I do, if you have 350 caps on you."

I looked at the bag Celeste gave me. "I think I only have a hundred. Do you still have them?"

She laughed. "Is that an attempt at haggling?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

Gibson placed her hands on her hips. "350 caps. I'm not lowering my price."

My hand on the bag tightened. I needed to get those thrust control things. There was no way I was going back without completing my task. I looked back towards Novac. My supplies were still in the motel room.

"So," Gibson kept holding her ground. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

I shook my head. "No thank you. Thanks for letting me pet your dog."

...

-Celeste-

I don't know if you ever had a human act condescending to you for not being a ghoul, but it is both awkward and infuriating.

Chris obviously knew more about rockets than I did. The most I could do was bounce information back to him. There was so much about this that reminded me of working with my dad. Except Chris was a human and an asshole.

"Is the kid back with the thrust control modules?" Chris looked over his shoulder at me. "I need them now."

"I'll go see." I got up from my stool and raced up the stairs. I doubted that Livius would be back so quickly, so I was surprised when I saw Livius standing in the hallway and holding a few pieces of metal.

"Here." He handed the controls to me. He seemed to be out of breath from running back.

"Back so soon?" I reached out to take the thrust controls from him, but I noticed that his arms were no longer covered with the bandages. He was just walking around with his legionary tattoos on display.

He glanced to the side. "It got itchy."

Something felt wrong, but I didn't have time to argue. I took the thrust controls from him and ran back into the basement.

At long last the rockets were fixed, no thanks to me by the way. Despite my little help, Chris still trusted me to launch the rockets. Well I don't think it's that he trusted me, I just think he didn't trust me to be alone with the rockets if something went wrong.

Livius and I ran upstairs, pushing past the crowds of ghouls who were descending into the basement. It hit me how absurd this idea was. We were sending the ghouls to space. I don't think this is what Manny had in mind when he said "get rid of them".

The launch station was outside on the balcony. It was already night when we stepped out. Livius leaned against the rails while I fiddled with the controls in an attempt to look like I knew what I was doing. I punched in the coordinates Chris gave me (there was no way those were accurate), pushed a few buttons, and initiated the countdown.

"Here's your caps back." Livius tossed the bag back to me.

I caught it, but I was confused to find that it felt like the same amount of caps were inside.

"How much did you spend?"

His hand tightened around the railing. "I didn't need it."

I nearly dropped the bag on the controls. My eyes darted from his exposed tattoos, to his jumpy demeanor, to the faded red-brown stains on his hands.

"What. Did. You. Do?" I pushed myself out of my seat and made my way over to him. The balcony floor was starting to shake under my feet, but I didn't care.

"I did what I had to do. We have a mission." Livius still looked jumpy, but his eyes locked on mine.

I gripped the railing on either side of arms, trapping him.

"Who did you kill?"

His eyes narrowed. "Does it matter? You got what you needed."

Both me and the entire building were trembling at this point. He wasn't denying it. Piece by piece, I began losing control of what I was saying.

"I thought you were different, but you're just like the rest of them." I held my face in my hand. "If I knew the truth about you people, I would have left you back in Goodsprings."

The sentence floated in the air like a toxic cloud. Livius's body tensed up.

"What are you talking about?"

I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

"You want to talk about how you're so high and mighty, but you legionaries are nothing more than thugs! I saw Nipton. I saw the victims you people crucified and left for dead. I've seen the way you deal with slavery. You legionaries think you're the savior of the wastes, but you are no different than the raiders and thugs I deal with on a daily basis. Only difference is you psychos can't use drugs as an excuse for your craziness!"

Livius's expression shifted from confusion, to hurt, then to anger. His blood-stained hands reached out for my collar as well.

"Craziness, huh?!" His voice cracked as he yelled. "What about your chems? Do you even think about all the lives you destroyed from your job? The raiders who do what they do because you supply them with chems?!"

"I'm not hurting them!" The roaring from the rockets and our fury forced both of us to shout. "If anything, I'm helping them deal with the shit in their lives!"

"What about the alcohol?! That's a chem! I saw you this morning and you looked miserable! Are you going to tell me that it was helping you?"

Rage roared through my veins and I lost control of my movements. My hands went from Livius's shirt collar to his throat as I pushed him up against the edge of the railing.

"You know nothing about the real world, Livius!" My arms shook, my eyes stung from tears, my tongue felt thick as I tried to speak. "You live in a perfect little world where 'not being a profligate' is the answer to all life's problems! I've only been in the Mojave for three years and I know more than you! You think that your Caesar is saving the world, but the world is still shit! The people don't need a savior, they need an escape. If that makes me weak, I don't care. But I know you killed way more people than me so-"

The rockets launched.

I pulled Livius towards me and away from the rail. The building shook so much that I thought the balcony would fall off. Livius was trembling in my arms as I glanced up. A single rocket flew up and pierced the night sky. There was a blinding flash, a cloud of smoke, and rocket parts began to fall back towards the earth.

My arms fell to my side. I knew I did everything right! What went wrong? What's wrong with me?

Livius sat back against the rails and hugged his knees. His eyes were watery, his voice was soft.

"Looks like we're even now."

...

-Livius-

I was going to be sick. I felt like a nightstalker was clawing at my throat. I'm a legionary. I have to be used to being yelled at if I do something wrong.

But this hurt.

_"I would have left you back in Goodsprings."_

That part hurt the most. I thought Mars was giving me a second chance at life, but somehow I messed that up. I didn't know what I was doing wrong.

I wanted to offer to help Celeste get back to the room, but I couldn't get the words out. She unlocked the door and we fell onto opposite sides of the bed.

"You're not going to clean up?" The first thing she said since the balcony. Her voice was muffled against the sheets.

"Too tired."

She went silent again. I thought she fell asleep, so I allowed myself to ask a question.

"Celeste?"

"What on earth is it?"

I pressed my head back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

"Is there a way I can fix this?"

She rolled over onto her side so she was facing me. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"I can't ask you to change who you are."

I felt my voice catch in my throat.

"I owe you my life. I don't want you to hate me."

Celeste sighed and closed her eyes. "I don't hate you, I hate what you're from."

"That's who I am."

"You're more than a legionary, Livius."

I was stunned. No one ever said anything like that to me before. The legion is all I know, what more to me is there? I was probably more of a traitor than I thought. But still, there was a part of me that wanted her approval. I reached for the teddy bear and squeezed it for a while.

"Why did you want to save those ghouls?"

She moved onto her back and I could almost hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. That made me happy.

"It's a bit personal. But if you must know, my father was a ghoul."

I gagged a bit. "Ghouls can do that?"

She sighed. "He wasn't always a ghoul." She rolled in the blankets, taking them for herself. "He was a scientist, mostly working with radiation. Obviously one experiment went out of hand and one day daddy comes home as a ghoul. Shit happens."

I stared off into the distance. "Was he a good dad?"

"Yeah, he was really good. I mean I did have to wear a hazmat suit around him at all times and he did cause my mom and brother to leave, but he taught me about science. He made me who I am today."

"If you have a family, why are you out here?" I didn't know if I was asking things I shouldn't know about, but I did like being able to talk to her again.

She shrugged. "A little something called 'political uprisings'. The Enclave was exposed of some pretty messed up stuff, so my brother and I had to flee westward. He wanted to start a clinic out here, but turns out that running a shack filled with chemicals in raider-territory is not a good idea." She rubbed her brow. "Raiders killed him and that's how I got in the drug trade."

I felt a pit form in my stomach. What was I supposed to say? Was I still supposed to feel bad about not approving of her job? I knew that as a legionary, I shouldn't. This was all really confusing.

"I'm sorry about your brother."

She waved the question aside, staring blankly at the wall. "It's okay."

"Sometimes I wish I had a family. I see pictures of old-world families sometimes. It looks nice."

"It's kind of overrated, in my opinion. Family's messy."

I shook my head. "In the Legion, we're taught that the only connection we need is to the Legion itself. Legionaries are raised by the priestesses and caretakers without any close relationships. The closest I had to a family was my squad."

She looked over at me. I couldn't read her expression.

"For what it's worth, you're the closest thing to family I had in a while."

"You tried to throw me off of a building."

She gave a sad smile. "I told you, family's messy."

I curled up into a ball on the bed.

"Are you still mad at me?"

She sighed. "I don't take back what I said, but you're a good kid. You're better than what you came from. I know I can't change you; that's unrealistic and kind of condescending. But I think there's a lot about yourself that you have yet to realize."

Once again, she left me shocked. My fingers tightened against the sheets.

"Do you still regret taking me with you?"

She looked over at me and smirked. "Ask me tomorrow morning when the exhaustion and scotch wears off."

I fell asleep long after she did. The entire time I couldn't help but reflect on what she said. I'm more than a legionary. There's more about myself that I have to learn. This was my chance to become someone. To become more than a masked face in a crowd of soldiers. More than a target to the NCR. I was made of flesh and bone too. I could be important. Maybe I was important.

I hoped Caesar couldn't read minds. He would have killed me.


	6. Chapter 6

-Celeste-

The nightmares died down. Either that or my mind was so numb to them that I didn't remember.

I actually made a point to wake up early, but Livius was already up and packed by the time I got up. No idea how he manages to do that.

"I talked to Manny while you were asleep." He tossed my bag onto the bed. The springs creaked under its weight. "We're going to a place called Boulder City. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah, I think so." I pulled myself out of bed and leaned against the wall for support. It took a bit of time for both my eyes and my brain to adjust. When they did, I noticed Livius was staring at me. "What is it?"

"Do you still not want to have me here? You told me to ask you in the morning."

I couldn't help but smile. This guy had to be in his late teens or early twenties, but he acted like a little kid sometimes. A violent, confused, disturbed little kid.

"I like having you around, but some things are hard to look past." I sat down on the edge of the bed. "But I would have been dead if it weren't for you, so there's that."

He brightened up a little bit. "You're my squad now. That's why I'm here."

I pulled my bag over my shoulder and headed out the door with him.

It finally felt like we were getting back into the swing of things. As we strolled down the road to Boulder City, Livius filled me in on all the details he got from Manny.

"The Khans who attacked you should be there." Livius tied his bandana around his neck.

"I did hear from my superiors that the NCR was moving in on that town, but I don't know what their status is now. Sorry."

"Thanks, Livius." I cupped my hand over my eyes and peered over the horizon. Still nothing but desert as far as the eye could see.

"Also Manny told me the name of the man who shot you."

I looked over at Livius in shock.

"You mean I have to stop calling him 'Checkers'?"

He shrugged. "His name is Benny, but you can keep calling him Checkers if you want to, I guess."

"Benny." I repeated the name and my voice became quiet. It felt so odd that this man who was plaguing my nightmares had human characteristics. A name, a life, all that. I wondered what Livius and I would have looked like to anyone else. A couple of bounty hunters tracking down our target. Basically what this "Benny" and his Khan friends did to me. I didn't like thinking about it like that. The legionary at my side didn't help make my case look any better.

I looked over at Livius. He seemed different, even in the way he carried himself. He always had good posture, but he came off as stiff and on-edge as if he was always about to charge into battle. Here, he seemed more confident and comfortable. It didn't look like he was constantly fighting against the "profligate" clothing he was forced to wear. He looked natural.

I couldn't help but wonder if what I said had anything to do with this. From what I could gather, it seemed like Livius absorbed any feedback that came his way. Especially if someone screamed it in his face. That isn't how I wanted to have an effect on him. I didn't want to be one of his commanders yelling orders at him. I wanted him to learn to become his own person by himself and maybe that way he could distance himself from the atrocities committed by the Legion.

Maybe he was too far gone for that to ever happen.

-Livius-

I wondered if Celeste would let me get a dog. Just to have around as we did our mission. I thought about asking her, but she seemed to be thinking about something else. So I didn't think about it. It would be nice to have a companion to run with in the morning since Celeste doesn't like waking up before noon. Profligates are weird sometimes.

Since I didn't know where Boulder City was, I had to rely on Celeste for the directions. At first I thought she suddenly got good at navigation, but then I found out that she was just reading the road signs. I still couldn't read. I couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Celeste smirked when I expressed this to her.

"I can teach you sometime, if you like."

I was unsure. I didn't know how the Legion would react if I returned being able to read. I was in enough trouble with them already.

After a bit of walking, the ruins small city came up over the horizon. The brown buildings were all nearly destroyed, only being held up by metal supports. Like Primm, there was a large NCR flag outside. But this time, I didn't panic. At least I think I didn't.

We headed deeper into the city. Only the cracked street beneath our feet was intact.

Part of the town was closed off and guarded by a single NCR trooper.

"I bet the Khans are past that point." Celeste stopped in her tracks. "I'll see if I can negotiate my way in. Try not to wander off."

Before I could say anything back, she ran off. She probably didn't trust me to be around NCR soldiers. This hurt a bit, but I understood.

I walked around the city, but there wasn't much to see. Almost all of the buildings were broken and the ones that weren't were still closed off. There was no one else in the city to talk to either. In the center of the ruins, I saw something that stood out. It was a large black stone that was really clean and smooth compared to everything else. I got closer and I saw that there was another NCR soldier standing in front of it. He noticed me before I could get away.

"Come here to pay your respects too?" He sounded friendly, for an NCR soldier.

I got closer to the rock and I could see a writing carved into the sides, but I still couldn't tell what it was.

"What is this?" I reached out to touch the stone, but he stopped me.

"It's a memorial for the Battle of Hoover Dam." His friendly tone became heavier. "Many NCR rangers lured the best of Caesar's Legion into this city then blew the whole place up. A great victory for the NCR, but we lost a lot of great men and women. This memorial is the most we can do to honor them."

I felt my blood run cold. The battle at the dam was a very uncomfortable subject among legionaries. We don't take kindly to failure. I was still in training back in Flagstaff when the war happened. Maybe if I had a chance to fight in the battle, it could have been different. I looked closer at the rock. I still couldn't read the carvings, but it occurred to me that they were all names of the NCR rangers. I doubted they had an extra rock for the legion soldiers who died too. The Legion never did this, but I think that made us strong. A legionary never given a memorial or a fancy rock. It didn't matter what rank he was.

We would keep moving forward as an army, as a whole force rather than a group of separate people.

But that idea began to feel lonely. If I died in battle, no one would remember my name. Even if I was a centurion. There was a part of me that wanted the NCR's ways of treating the dead soldiers. I wanted my squad to have a memorial. I wanted a memorial for every legionary who boldly took his own life to avoid capture. I tried to tell myself that this way of respect was just superficial. Because it was. Just superficial profligate behavior.

"Are you okay?"

I remembered that the soldier was standing next to me. I nodded and fixed my bandana.

"I'm okay." My voice still sounded shaky. Embarrassing.

"I understand. It's hard not to get emotional here."

I looked around at the blown up buildings and tried to put myself in the shoes of the centurions who were trapped here.

"The NCR did what they had to do."

He nodded and picked at the cuffs of his uniform. "That they did."

We stood there in silence, but it wasn't out of respect. I couldn't believe I was standing this close to an NCR soldier. I was right next to the enemy and he didn't suspect a thing. The weight on my chest and shoulders felt like I was being forced to carry the memorial myself.

Just when I was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable, I saw Celeste in the distance. It took all of my strength not to sigh in relief.

"I should get going now." I backed away from the memorial, rubbing the back of my neck beneath my bandana.

"Take care." The soldier smiled at me and I smiled back though I probably shouldn't have.

I darted over to Celeste. Once I caught up, we began walking to the closed-off part of town.

"Okay so here's the plan," she kept her voice lowered. "There's currently a stalemate going on between the Great Khans and the NCR. I managed to convince the NCR to let me pass in an attempt to help reason with the Khans."

"Wait, so we're going to end their stalemate?" I felt nervous. Khans were very tough warriors, even the Legion knew this.

Celeste shook her head. "No, we're going to slip out right after we get the information."

"But you said-"

"Livius, I lied." She grabbed my arm and pulled me past the borders. "I do that."

The tension I felt between me and the soldier was nothing compared to what I felt crossing that border. NCR soldiers lined the streets, still as statues and aiming their weapons towards the barricaded buildings.

The Great Khans were also aiming their weapons from the other side of the street. Men and women in shiny black armor and pointed hairstyles were kneeling behind the partially blown-up walls. I always found Khan women to be very attractive. I don't know why. A girl with blue hair and tattoos covering her body was tapping a rusted bat against her palm. I wanted to talk to her, but Celeste pulled me into a building before I could get the chance.

Celeste closed the door behind us and I saw that we were in a bar of some kind. Or at least the remains of one. There was a small scattering of Khans in the building, but

Celeste walked right over to one behind the counter. He had bright orange hair that was put into one of those spiky styles and he had some light facial hair around his chin.

When he saw Celeste, his face paled and he backed up against the wall.

"It-it can't be."

Celeste slammed her fist against the counter. "You got some explaining to do."

It looked like the Khan was taking too long to answer her. She smacked the counter again.

"I said explain!"

He held his hands up, sweat was dotting his brow. "This really isn't a good time. Also shouldn't you be dead?!"

All I could do was stand there and watch as Celeste reached out and grabbed the front of his armor.

"Well I'm sorry I didn't take your schedule into account. But I'm here now, so you're going to tell me everything about this Che...Benny guy."

"Alright, alright. Fuckin' psycho." He pulled away from her. "Benny's a Chairman, one of the owners of a big-shot casino in Vegas. I was offered a shit-ton of caps to help him track you down. All for some platinum chip."

"Platinum chip?" The tough act she was putting on melted away and she seemed more confused.

The Khan shrugged. "Just a fancy poker chip. Nothing worth killing anyone for."

"I see." She leaned against the counter. "Well since you didn't do your job properly in taking me down, I would like to see the caps he gave you."

His face turned the same shade of red as his hair. "As much as I would love to do that, the son of a bitch never paid us. Then he left us to rot in this town. You're dealing with a class-A asshole right here, but you probably already knew that."

Celeste touched her scar. "So there is nothing else you can tell me?"

"You can find Benny at the Tops Casino in Vegas. Fuck him up for me, would you?"

She nodded and just when we were about to leave, he stopped us.

"You're not going to do anything about our NCR issue?"

Celeste smirked. "I'll go talk to the soldiers about this."

I waved goodbye to the Khans and Celeste closed the door.

We left Boulder City without talking to the NCR or the Khans again. Lying to the NCR was okay but I didn't know how I felt about lying to the Khans. But then again, I wasn't the one who was shot in the head.

...

-Celeste-

Victory was so close, I almost couldn't take it.

The Vegas Strip was a symbol of the Mojave. No matter where you were in the wasteland, you could always see the shining lights gleaming in the distance. And that's where Benny was. No more wandering around. We had a set goal and destination. This whole thing was finally going to come to a close.

Unfortunately the Strip was still pretty far away and the sun was setting. The territories directly south of Vegas are known for being infested with raiders and I didn't want to be caught this late at night.

Livius and I found a motel that made the one in Novac look like a presidential suite. The mold-colored paint on the walls was peeling off, the mattress smelled like piss and sour brahmin milk, also this place was a hot-spot for junkies. Livius was afraid to touch anything inside. I didn't blame him. I sat down against the wall and examined some of the graffiti scribbled on the walls.

"Burned Man Walks." I traced my fingers over the writing that seemed to stand out against the rest of the graffiti. "What does that mean?"

Livius looked like he saw a ghost. "Where did you hear that?"

I pointed to the wall. "It's written here."

Livius fell to his knees. "But how could anyone here know of the Burned Man?"

"Would you care to enlighten me?"

He looked down at his hands. "The Burned Man was one of Caesar's greatest warriors, but he failed him. As punishment, Caesar lit him on fire and threw him into the Grand Canyon. The Burned Man is dead, but some older legionaries like to say he's still alive to scare the children. Still, I don't understand how someone out here would know of him."

"You're not scared of this now, are you?"

Livius forced a laugh. "I'm not a child."

"Could have fooled me." I leaned back against the wall. "So do you want me to teach you how to read?"

He looked up at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." I reached into my bag and pulled out some crumpled up papers. "Then maybe

we can add our own graffiti to the wall."

Livius and I spent an hour going over the sounds made by the different letters of the alphabet. I even made him a little cheat sheet with hastily drawn doodles over each letter. It was sort of like the kind I had when I was a child but shittier since I was the one drawing it.

"This is a lot of information for one day, so we can stop for tonight if you want." I pushed a piece of paper and a pencil over to Livius. "But first, try writing your name."

Livius pressed the paper against the hardened carpet as he drew each letter as carefully as possible. His eyes darted back and forth between his paper and the cheat sheet and I saw him mouthing the different sounds in his name as he wrote. He pushed the paper back over to me.

_"Liweeoos"_

"Is this right?" His eyes widened, his hand tightened around his pencil.

I shrugged. "It could be. I don't speak Latin. Maybe you could try writing my name instead."

A look of determination spread across his features and he turned back to his writing. This attempt took a lot longer and his movements looked even more careful and calculated.

_"Selest"_

I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. I wanted to correct him, but it was his first day of writing. And everything was legible, which is more than I could say for my first writing attempt.

"It's good." I handed the page back to him with a smile. "We can start again tomorrow if you'd like."

"I'd like that. Also, I'll let you have the mattress tonight."

I looked over at the mattress in all of its oddly-yellow glory.

"Oh you're too kind."

We each curled up on separate sides of the room. The carpet was disgusting, but nowhere near as disgusting as the mattress. Before I fell asleep, I scribbled _"Liweeoos and Selest were here"_ on the wall below the Burned Man thing. Because as far as memorials for this little adventure goes, this seemed the most fitting.


	7. Chapter 7

-Livius-

Celeste wouldn't have lasted a day in legionary training. We had to stop again for rest, even though I could see the city just over the horizon. I guess stopping for a snack break was more important than our goal. If I tried to ask my centurion if we could take a break, he'd feed me to the hounds. Guess I couldn't complain too much. I did get a soda out of it.

The place we stopped at was outside, so it felt more like a campsite than the buildings we visited before. There were some benches scattered around the area, a whole brahmin was slowly roasting over an open fire. Celeste was arguing with the owner of the place. I made a point to sit on one of the stools furthest away so no one would think I was with her. I could still hear everything, though.

"But really, 20 caps for this?!" She waved some object in her hand, but I couldn't see what it was. "No thanks, I'll take it for 15."

The man she was arguing with was tall, bulky, and had more beard than face. I couldn't believe that she actually thought she could control him.

"I said 20 and I'm sticking with it."

I twirled the empty bottle against the countertop. This probably wasn't the best time to ask Celeste if I could buy a refill. They've been going back and forth with the "20!" "15!" thing for about ten minutes. I tried to tune them out and focus on the other things people were saying around me. No one there seemed to be talking about anything interesting.

Until…

"But seriously, I hear McCarran captured one of those top-dog legionary guys."

The bottle almost fell from my hand. Did I hear that right?

I looked to the right and saw two wasteland women sitting on the stools next to me. I kept my head down and tried to listen closely to what they were saying. It was like being a frumentarius. I felt so cool!

"What? When was this?"

"A few months ago, I think."

My fingers tightened around the bottle and I began to feel sick. They didn't say what the rank of the legionary who was (maybe) captured, but there's a good chance he was a centurion. And if he was a centurion, there was a bigger chance…

Just then, the woman who was gossiping slammed her fist against the counter and threw me out of my thoughts. I did not scream. I promise.

"Wish they let civilians in!" She roared with laughter. "I'd have him combing the Mojave for his teeth!"

"You'd do no such thing."

I managed to tune out the friends arguing with each other because my mind was focusing on one thing: my centurion. It had to be him, right? How many other centurions were patrolling the Mojave these last months? Either way, Celeste had her mission and now I had mine. I didn't know who this McCarran guy was. He could have been a bounty hunter, NCR soldier, or just some degenerate. It didn't matter. I was going after him. Even though I was wearing degenerate clothing, this felt like the perfect way to show that I was still a loyal recruit. I just needed to tell Celeste.

Glancing back up, I could see that the owner gave in to her demands. I was surprised too.

"Alright, fine. 19 caps."

"Hmm…" Celeste appeared to be considering it. I tried to silently convince her to just shut up and take it. "Make that 16 and you got a deal."

The man groaned. "Fine."

I got up from the stool and walked over to her.

"I am a master haggler." She seemed happy, but her expression changed when she saw my face. "You okay?"

"Who's McCarran?" If anyone could keep track of wasteland degenerates, it was Celeste.

She frowned. "Huh?"

"McCarran." I picked at the bandages around my arms. "A high-ranked legionary was captured by a man named McCarran. Do you know who he is?"

She looked confused for a while, but then something seemed to click.

"You mean Camp McCarran? That's not a person, it's an NCR base nearby."

"Oh." Great. Not one guy, but a base crawling with profligate soldiers. Well, no one ever said that regaining honor was easy. And if anyone ever said that, they were probably never a legionary recruit. "Can we get in?"

"Not like this." Celeste held up the object she just bought, which appeared to be a rolled up piece of white cloth. Hardly worth all that arguing on. "But I bought something that could help you."

I could feel my eyes widen and I stared as I watched her unroll the mystery object.

"Behold!"

In her hands was a white shirt, surprisingly clean for the wasteland. Which would have been fine, but even with my bad reading skills I could see the words said "I'M A SUPER DUPER TROOPER KID" in fat and shiny red letters. Right below that was a drawing of an NCR soldier giving a thumbs-up and smiling.

"No." I crossed my arms and couldn't help but feel stupid for thinking she had an actual solution.

"But I haggled for you!" She held the shirt closer to me. "And I got it in your size!"

I narrowed my eyes at the shirt. It was barely big enough for a child.

"Too small."

"Oh come on, you've only been wearing normal clothes for a few months. You don't get to pretend like you know how clothing works."

Mars, she could be annoying. "I'm still not wearing it. It's stupid."

She smirked. "Do I need to bring up your legion armor again?"

I pushed the shirt away. "No. Now you're going to help me get into Camp McCarran."

Celeste shoved the shirt into her bag. "I would like to avoid any murder sprees, thank you very much."

"I'm not murdering anyone, but there's something I have to do."

She was suspicious of me. I knew this. I didn't like the way she always assumed the worst of me, but I guess she had her reasons. I remembered the argument we had. I didn't want a repeat of that.

So I didn't bring up the McCarran thing for a while, but it continued to eat away at my brain as we shopped for supplies. I couldn't just walk through a market while my centurion was rotting away in a cell somewhere. Everything I did felt wrong and I became more and more aware of the degenerate I was becoming. Finding my centurion was the only way to remain true to who I was.

"Can anyone get into Camp McCarran?" I peered over Celeste's shoulder as she examined some food displayed on one of the stands.

"You're still on that?"

"It's just a question."

She sighed and picked up a stick with meat skewered on it. "If they're a competent military base: no. If we just go waltzing in wearing normal clothes, they may shoot us on sight." She turned back to the stand owner to ask what kind of meat she was looking at. His vague response was troubling.

"Then can we get NCR uniforms?"

"It's not as simple as putting on a brown jacket and hat." She set the meat back down and we continued moving through the market. "They have documentation. Dog tags. They keep track of their soldiers."

"Is there a way we can fake that?"

"Not without doing some kind of sketchy black market deal."

I frowned and looked around. I didn't know where this "Black Market" thing was. Maybe it only opened up at night, which is where the name came from. I pulled on Celeste's arm.

"What is it?"

"Where's the black market?"

She looked at me with one of her annoyed expressions. "The black market isn't an actual place. And we're not breaking into an NCR camp."

Since our room was really gross, we tried to spend as little time in it as possible. Celeste and I sat outside near the market. I drank a watered-down soda and she drank some kind of alcoholic thing. She didn't seem happy about her drink, but she drank it anyway.

I could see Camp McCarran in the distance. It was a big building with tall metal walls, watchtowers, and huge NCR flags. Sprouting out of the camp was a structure that looked kind of like a train track, but it went in the air. I couldn't see where the tracks went, but I saw these little carts travelling back and forth on them. It looked fun.

"That's weird." Celeste frowned and stopped one of the nearest people passing by. "Excuse me, do you know where those tracks go?"

The wastelander paused and looked over at the camp. "Oh, that just takes the soldiers to the Strip for 'patrolling'. I swear it's just an excuse for them to get wasted, though."

He scurried away, grumbling something about "annoying fucking tourists". Celeste stared down at her hands.

"Livius?"

"Yes?"

She drank the rest of her drink and took a deep breath. "We're going to have to get into that camp."

"But what about the uniforms?"

She pushed her glasses up. "If we're in the right area, I may know a guy."

...

-Celeste-

One of the perks of being in the drug trade: connections.

I did not want to sneak my way into an NCR camp for many reasons. It was far too risky and I didn't know how Livius would react under that kind of pressure. However, popping over to the Strip on an air-conditioned train seemed a lot more ideal than fighting through wave after waves of raiders.

The closer you get to the outer Vegas walls and the further you get from Camp McCarran, the more run-down the buildings become. Raider groups, particularly the Fiends, dominate this part of town.

Livius's discomfort was seeping out of him like radiation. Though raiders are usually active at night, the damage left by them was still present. Houses with their windows and doors kicked in, dirty needles scattered around the street, the occasional body part. The usual.

"You know someone here?" Livius rubbed his arms as if he was cold.

I crushed a syringe under my boot. "He was wandering the wastes when we first met. Last I heard, he relocated here."

"I don't want to meet anyone who lives here."

We stopped in front of a run-down repair shop that was constructed out of large rippled sheets of metal bolted together. The door only hung from its top hinge and it creaked under its own weight. I knocked on the wall next to the door so I wouldn't break it further.

The door swung open. A man stood in the doorframe, his build large enough to block any view of the rest of his shack. When he saw me, he broke into a mostly-toothless grin.

"Cel!" He reached out and clapped me on the shoulder. A cloud of dust poofed out, but I don't know if it was from him or me.

"Hey, Stanley." I reached out and grabbed Livius's arm to keep him from running away. "Hate to drop by so suddenly, but I need your help."

Stanley moved to the side to let us through. "Come on in! I'm sure we can work something out."

It was getting harder to keep a hold on Livius, but I managed to pull him into the shack with me.

The door shut behind us, so the only light came from a flickering orange lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Other than a few patched-up sets of furniture, the inside of the shack was lined with heavy machinery. I had to wade through a sea of empty glass bottles and counterfeit caps to get to one of the couches. Livius chose to stand by the door.

"Make yourselves at home." Stanley plopped down on his workbench and looked over at Livius. "You okay, son?"

Livius held his arms closer to his chest. "I'm good."

"He gets like this sometimes." I leaned back against the couch. "But back to business."

"Of course, of course." He spread his hands and grinned at me. "Long time since we've worked together, eh Cel?"

I crossed my arms. "The last time we worked together, you paid me with counterfeit caps."

Stanley chuckled and patted one of the heavy-duty machines next to him. "And you couldn't even tell the difference. So, how have you been?"

"I was shot in the head."

He winced. "Well, you still look great!"

"Thanks, Stanley."

"What brings you to my office?"

I had to make weird deals with Stanley in the past, but I didn't know how to phrase this one. He was relatively close to an NCR camp and in my experience he has always been rather unpredictable. But still, I didn't know who else I could go to.

"We need NCR uniforms. Documentation too."

His expression never faltered. He continued smiling and brushed a bottlecap off of his worktable. "I can make something happen. I'll need payment, though."

I reached into my bag, pulled out my shoebox, and dropped it on the only bare section of floor in the shack.

"These were the contents of a package I was supposed to deliver. Don't make me regret this."

Livius was practically clawing at the rusted metal walls to escape. Stanley knelt down and examined the chems closer.

"Looks like you got yourself a deal!" His black eyes and teeth gleamed in the light. I watched him pick the box up and set it to the side.

Livius's expression had "regret" written all over it. I didn't feel too sorry for him. This is what he wanted and he's getting it.

When I plan to infiltrate a military base, I don't half-ass it.

The forging of the documents and dogtags would take a couple of days. By the time we left the shack, Livius nearly doubled over in relief.

"Why do you know that guy?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes my job required false identities."

"I don't like him."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think he's crazy about you either."

Livius and I scurried back to our room before the clock struck "Raider O'clock". Still wasn't the coziest or most hygenic place to stay, but it provided enough safety. Despite this, Livius continued to pace around the perimeter like a frightened animal. Definitely not like someone who had the confidence to break into a military base.

"Livius."

He stopped and looked at me like a dog who just heard a whistle.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes under my glasses. "You sure you want to do this?"

Livius slid back down against the wall. "I have to. I have to prove myself."

"To whom?"

He picked at a stain on the carpet. "To Caesar. But also to myself, I guess. Is that selfish?"

"No it's not. And coming from you, it's welcomed."

He smiled, but it looked hesitant and twitchy. "If someone else besides me survived that battle, I need to meet him. I need...closure."

I looked down at my hands. "I understand. You need to do this. Just promise not to kill anyone and I'll help you however I can."

"Thank you, Celeste." He was just about to turn in for the night when I stopped him.

"But first," I stood up and he soon followed my example. "We need to change the way you talk."

His hand went to his throat. "The way I talk?"

"Say the name of the man you answer to."

He said "Caesar". Hard "C", long "I" instead of "EE", harsh "R". I cringed but I felt thankful that I caught it sooner.

"Speak like that, and you'll expose us both. Outside of the Legion, we say it like 'See-ser'."

"What?"

"Just say it."

He repeated it a few times and each time he looked uncomfortable. Something he would have to work on. Fortunately it didn't sound like he had any type of accent outside of that one word. But if there was a legion accent, those soldiers in that camp would be able to pick up on it.

I clapped his shoulder. "It's not going to be easy. Are you ready?"

Livius had his eyes cast downwards at the floor, but he nodded.

"I'm ready."

...

Livius and I didn't enter Camp McCarran after we received our uniforms and documents. Instead, we sat on the balcony just outside our room. I read over the documents while Livius got used to wearing NCR armor.

"How is anyone supposed to fight in this?" Livius pulled at the thick tan pants he had tucked into his boots. "I feel so restrained!"

I shrugged. "Seems to work fine for the NCR."

Since Stanley made false documents for me in the past, he knew exactly what I wanted. Androgynous name, convenient smudge over the "sex" section of the form, some sort of mysterious and tragic backstory. All pristine and 99% official.

Livius stopped complaining for a second and peered over my shoulder at his document.

"What does DOB mean?" The brim of his hat pushed awkwardly against my temple.

"Date of birth. Can you read this number here?"

I haven't gone over numbers as intensely with him at that point, but he tried to get through them.

"2264? He pulled his goggles up from over his eyes. "How old would that make me?"

I had to count backwards on my fingers. "About 17, I think?"

Livius looked offended. "17? I'm 22!"

I looked Livius up and down. "Stick with 17."

He sat down next to me and swung his legs over the balcony. "Do you have a different name?"

"Yeah." I waved the documents back and forth in my hands. "It's Alex."

"Alex?"

"Alex."

Livius frowned and leaned forward against his knees. "But that's a boy's name."

"It's both."

"Oh." He looked over at me. "What's my name?"

I flipped back to his document.

"Stanley."

Livius narrowed his eyes at me. "Really? He named me after himself?"

"Yeah." I handed his document to him. "Your name's now Stanley."

"I don't want to be called Stanley."

"Well if you have some drugs you would like to sell to get a better deal, be my guest."

He snatched the paper from me without saying another word.

Shortly after, we made our way into Camp McCarran. The troopers stationed outside never stopped us. We were in the perimeter. The secure outer walls lead into a huge open area lined with shooting ranges, watchtowers, and the occasional scattering of tents. In the distance there was an even larger building that reminded me of the test site in Novac. That's also where the train tracks were coming out of.

Livius seemed to have problems controlling his breathing. He clutched at the forged dog tag around his neck.

"Still sure you can do this?" I looked up at him from under the brim of my hat.

He nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I'm doing what I have to do."


	8. Chapter 8

-Celeste-

It felt strange just casually walking through an NCR camp. To maintain our image, we were forced to leave our bags back at our motel room. I felt naked walking around without a weapon and I didn't know how long we could keep our supplies unattended in a junkie-occupied part of town. And even then, I didn't know how we could get our stuff on the monorail so we could get to the Strip.

The monorail did seem like a better option compared to fighting through raider territory, but this plan was incredibly stupid. Like, even more stupid than trying to fight through a swarm of convicts with a broken leg. Really the major reason I was going through with it was so Livius could get what he wanted. I didn't have the heart to tell Livius that the NCR probably wouldn't let newcomers meet with the prisoners, especially one as high-profile as the man he was talking about. But I began to wish that I did do that the more time we spent in that camp. I pulled the brim of my hat down so it covered my hearing aids.

Fortunately, Livius didn't appear to be as jumpy around NCR soldiers as he was before. Maybe he was used to it, maybe his mind was preoccupied. But he carried himself like an actual soldier through the camp grounds. The uniform was different, but the look was the same.

"You two! Stop right there!"

An NCR trooper marched over to us. Despite the heat and the heavy clothing I was wearing, I could feel my body go cold. The confident stride Livius was sporting earlier completely melted away.

He stopped and looked us over. I prayed that Stanley didn't rip me off with the authenticity of the uniforms.

"Why aren't you at your posts?"

I managed to choke out a response since Livius still looked out of it.

"We were transferred here from the Mojave Outpost." I purposely exaggerated my Tennessee accent. I didn't have to use a different voice, but I wanted to. "We haven't been given our orders yet."

His eyes narrowed from behind his goggles. "I never heard anything about new recruits coming in from the outpost."

I felt my blood run cold, but I managed to keep my composure. "You didn't hear anything? Would you like to see our papers?"

I handed the documents over to the trooper. I felt my heart skip a beat each time his eyes glanced over every detail. There was nothing I could do except hope there were no errors or inconsistencies. One time Stanley forged a document for me that had multiple spelling errors on it. That didn't end well for either of us.

He handed the documents back to me with no comment and my breathing returned to normal.

"So where would you like us to be stationed, sir?"

The trooper scratched at his stubble. "Until I receive further instructions from Colonel Hsu, you can unload the supply crates." He pointed at Livius, who jolted in response. "And you, go inside and scrub the floors."

I didn't know how I felt about leaving Livius alone in an NCR camp, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice. When the trooper left, I turned to Livius after he looked like he was calming down.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Livius fiddled with his armor. "Just following orders."

"You know, it's not too late to back out." It was totally too late to back out.

He looked down at me and pulled his goggles over his eyes.

"You can trust me."

I was hesitant, but we parted ways to do our respected duties. If only the NCR trooper specified that unloading the supplies meant hauling back-breakingly heavy crates across a training field. My strength was giving out after the first box. I had to stop to rest near some of the tents.

A group of soldiers were roaming around the tent, all wearing red berets and varying levels of armor. I took a seat on top of the crate as a woman with sunglasses strolled over to me.

"You need a hand?" She hoisted her rifle over her shoulder and moved the crate out from under me with little effort. "You look like you've been working all day."

I've barely been working for ten minutes. I was just really out of shape and unused to the heavy uniform. I pushed my sweaty bangs out of my face.

"It's...okay...I got it..." I took a minute to catch my breath. It took a lot of strength not to collapse on top of the crate.

The woman smirked at me. "You're not helpful to anyone when you're like this. Come in and rest, would ya?"

The way she spoke sounded more like a command than a helpful suggestion, so I followed her into the tent.

I sat down in one of the far corners of the tent and it hit me how out of place I felt. I soon found out that I stumbled across the tent of the 1st Recon, one of the top military units in the NCR. Unlike the trooper who spoke to Livius and me earlier, these guys had authority. They would be able to tell that I did not belong there. All I could do was make idle chat and hope it all sounded legit.

"You came here from the outpost?" An older soldier, Corporal Sterling, sat down at one of the tables and faced me. "Get any action out there?"

I picked at the cuffs of my uniform while I tried to prattle off what Stanley put in my file.

"Not really. Well I mostly worked in the sick bay. I'm a doctor. Was, a doctor."

"And the NCR has you moving boxes?" Corporal Betsy, the woman who helped me earlier frowned. "Think they'd find a better use for you."

I shrugged and gave a forced laugh. "Well it beats fighting raiders, right?"

The air became uncomfortably quiet and stiff. What? What did I say?

I didn't find out until much later when I left the tent. I was just about to make my way over to the main building when a man named Lieutenant Gorobets stopped me. Even though the 1st Recon introduced me to him, he spent little time in the tent and he was mostly quiet. I didn't know why he was talking to me.

"Alex, is it?" His voice sounded hesitant and for a commanding officer he wasn't doing a good job making eye contact.

"Yeah. Is something wrong?" My stomach was tying itself in a knot. We're busted. This is it. He caught us. We're dead.

"You said you're a doctor?"

I nodded, unable to give a proper response.

He finally managed to make eye contact with me. "Do you know anything about mental health?"

Well that caught me off guard. I shook my head.

"Not as much as other types of illness. I'm sorry."

Gorobets sighed. "It's about Betsy. I'm sure you noticed something."

Honestly I didn't, but I kept that to myself. "What's wrong with her?"

He was still making eye contact with me, but his eyes got a glazed look in them.

"While on patrol, Betsy was ambushed and raped by a notorious Fiend named Cook-Cook."

I felt my mouth go dry and a pit form in my stomach. It hit me how incredibly stupid that comment I made before was. But also, who was this guy just telling me personal information about his soldiers?

"She acts like nothing's wrong, but her behavior is getting more and more reckless." His eyes sharpened back at me. "She needs help, but I can't in my right mind force her to seek it. I wanted to know if there was some way you could convince her to get psychological treatment."

I stared down at me feet. "I'm sorry, sir. I think she's going to have to get that on her own."

"I understand. Thank you for your time. And, oh, welcome to Camp McCarran."

I could only nod in response before darting off to the main building in the hopes of washing my hands of this awkward interaction. And the personal information I then felt forced to carry.

-Livius-

I didn't know how Celeste was doing, but I was doing a good job scrubbing the floor. It took some time for me to figure out how to do it properly, though. Back in Flagstaff, the legion used stone buildings and sometimes I'd be ordered to clean the floors there, but the floors in this NCR camp were metal. My knuckles were rubbed raw, but still I was determined to do my job.

I felt sick to my stomach. Was I really assisting the enemy like this? I could only hope that the legion would admire the steps I took to see my commander. Or maybe they'd just see that as an act of betrayal.

My hands were close to bleeding when I saw someone approaching me. I pulled the brim of my hat up so I could get a better look at him.

He was a young man, with curly brown hair that was dented from wearing the ridiculous NCR hats. He had kind brown eyes and he would have looked friendly if he wasn't the enemy.

"You know you don't have to clean the floor that hard, right?"

My hands gripped the rag tighter and I didn't respond. The soldier knelt down in front of me.

"You're the soldier who was transferred from the outpost? That's great, you're in my division. My name's Michael."

He held out his hand to me but I continued working.

"What's your name?"

I kept my eyes focused on a patch of rust on the floor.

"I'm, uh, Stanley."

"Nice to meet you, Stanley! You mind if I call you Stan?"

"My name is Stanley."

"Hey everyone!" Michael called over to a cluster of NCR soldiers around his age. They didn't seem interested in anything that was going on. "This is the new member of our team! His name is Stanley!"

They muttered a half-hearted "Hello, Stanley" then went back to whatever they were doing, which seemed like nothing.

Michael turned back to me. "So, how do you like Camp McCarran so far?"

"I have to work."

He looked down at the raw skin on my hands. "You don't have to scrub your hands off, you know? It's just something they assign so you look busy."

"This is my assignment."

He chuckled, but I didn't know why. I wasn't making a joke. He patted my shoulder and stood up.

"I guess I'll let you work if that's the case. Oh, and another thing..." He pulled the brim of my hat up. "You shouldn't wear your hat indoors. Show off those pretty eyes of yours."

He left. It took a while for me to bring myself to get back to work. I felt like I needed to throw up. Good thing I had a bucket nearby if I had to.

...

We could have been out of that camp a lot sooner if I was just allowed to talk to Celeste.

But no, the NCR just kept pushing me around the camp. Training with my new "squad", doing trust exercises, kitchen duty. It all felt like a superficial copy of the training we did in the legion. I never once got the feeling that the men in my "squad" were willing to die for each other or for their country.

I didn't talk to anyone else if I could help it. I tried to keep to myself whenever I could. The only one in my "squad" who ever got through to me was Michael, and that was because he was relentless. He reminded me of my best friend from my real squad. He was young, friendly, but also a talented soldier. It's hard to not be affected by that.

Blaring horns woke us up before dawn, but I was already awake. The cots we had to sleep in were comfy enough, but I couldn't bring myself to fall asleep in the camp. I was haunted by the fact that my centurion was somewhere that building. Also Harrison snored really loud. I was going to talk to our commanding officer about that.

I went into a corner to change into my uniform so no one else could see my scars or tattoos. Behind me, I could hear them whining about having to get up early. This was nothing compared to legion wakeup calls. I wondered if it was because they were young or if NCR soldiers just lacked discipline.

We were lined up outside and for once I was thankful for the silly uniforms. The cold season was coming up and the stiff clothing provided some protection from the weather.

I was able to stand at attention without shaking at the knees.

Our commanding officer paced in front of us. He was shorter than I would have expected from a commander, but he did look strong. He examined our uniforms and postures. One of the soldiers yawned and he looked up like a dog who heard a whistle.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The commander stood right in front of the soldier, his face just inches away from his. "Is this nap time for you?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry."

"Maybe some laps around the camp would help wake you up!"

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"That wasn't a bluff. Get moving!"

We watched as the soldier took off running towards the far end of the camp walls. The commander turned back to us.

"Does anyone else need a wakeup call?"

No one said anything.

The commander stopped in front of me.

"So, you're the one who was dropped here from the outpost. You got a name, soldier?"

"Yes, sir." I tried to tell myself that I was back in legionary training. "My name is Stanley Neil, sir. I was moved here from the outpost, sir. Proud to serve the republic, sir."

The commander stopped and stared at me, then he broke into a grin.

"If more recruits around here followed this soldier's example, we would have had the legion running years ago!"

The other soldiers grumbled under their breath and I stared down at my feet. This was wrong. I felt light-headed. It wasn't the reactions of the other soldiers that bothered me. I didn't care if some NCR foot soldiers didn't like me. I didn't want an NCR officer to like me.

Michael sat next to me in the mess hall when our "squad" broke for lunch. I still don't know why he wanted to talk to me, but it was nice having someone to be around since they wouldn't let me see Celeste. Even if he was an NCR soldier.

"Are you from a really militaristic family or something?" Douglas asked me out of the blue. He was another soldier in our "squad" with wispy blond hair and a broad nose. Over the few days I've been at the camp, I never made an effort to know him. I didn't know why he was asking me this question.

I looked up from my food. "What?"

He shrugged. "It's just that you're really rigid and precise, even when we're not training."

I pushed my food around my plate. "If I get an assignment, I do it well. That's what it means to be a soldier."

"We need to get you laid, Stanley."

"I'm not tired."

Everyone at my table started laughing. I don't know why. I wasn't making a joke. Profligates have weird senses of humor. They were probably mocking me.

I saw Michael laughing next to me and I felt a bit better about the whole thing. I had a feeling he wouldn't laugh at me like the others.

...

When I finally got a moment of free time, I used it to see Celeste. The NCR still had her moving crates around the camp, so I'd carry them for her while we talked.

"I want to get out of here."

Celeste rubbed her brow under her hat. "It was your idea to come here in the first place."

"Yeah, but-"

She stopped and turned to me.

"Listen, I don't want to be here either. It's uncomfortable and awkward. But we both have goals, so we should try to stay focused.

I looked down at the crate I was carrying. "Did you hear anything about the prisoner?"

Celeste shrugged. "I've been working with this 1st recon sniper. She mentioned

something about knowing the lieutenant who's interrogating the prisoner."

"Can you ask her then?"

Celeste's expression darkened. "I don't know how comfortable I feel doing that."

I tilted my head to the side. "Why not?"

She sighed. "Just wait it out, okay?"

…

Celeste told me to wait it out and as more days passed, that became easier for me.

Falling asleep was still difficult, though. The intrusive thoughts about my failure as a legionary continued to keep me awake. Also Harrison was still a heavy snorer.

As I laid in my cot, Michael reached over and passed me a torn scrap of paper and a pencil. I held the note up to the limited light from the window. There was something written on the paper, but I couldn't read it. I could see a small drawing of a funny face in the corner, so I added some changes so it looked like our commanding officer.

I passed it back to him and in the darkness I could hear him trying to cover his laughter from beneath the sheets. He handed the note back and this time the words he wrote were circled. I didn't have Celeste's reading guide with me so I couldn't figure out what it said. So I just pretended to fall asleep, the scrap of paper in my hand and Caesar's disappointed face burnt into my mind.


	9. Chapter 9

_[Breaking my no author's notes rule to say that there is some sexually suggestive content in this chapter. Nothing too explicit, but I thought I put this message here anyway. Yeah I don't add a warning before the Nipton chapter, but I feel the need to when there's sex involved. A+]_

**-Celeste-**

The longer I was in Camp McCarran, the more I wanted to get out.

I kept meaning to ask the 1st recon soldiers about the legion prisoner, but I could never find a chance to. Most of them still treated me like a lackey and all interactions with Betsy were incredibly awkward. I understood what the lieutenant meant when he talked about her. She was strong and confident, but there was something about the way she carried herself. In a way, it reminded me of how I acted after I was recovering from getting shot. I don't want to say I related to her. That sounded too condescending.

I saw Livius from time to time around the camp. To my surprise, it seemed like he was actually making an effort to be part of his new team. It was nice to see that he was giving these NCR kids a chance, even if he was just pretending. But I could tell that he wanted to get out of this camp just as much as I did.

Before heading back to my cot, I stopped Betsy just outside the tent.

"Hey, can we talk?"

She crossed her arms.

"Shoot."

I glanced over to the side. "I heard that this camp has a high-ranking legionary as prisoner."

"What about it?"

"My cousin was transferred here with me." I shifted back and forth on my heels. "His parents- my aunt and uncle- were killed by the legion. We're not sure if the prisoner here was responsible, but we want to make sure. Do they let anyone work with the prisoners?"

Betsy sighed. "It's a delicate situation. We can't support your cousin's revenge fantasies. If things get heated and the prisoner gets himself hurt-"

"It's not about revenge." I brought myself to make eye contact with her. "We need closure. Stanley still hasn't recovered from the tragedy and I feel like confronting the man who did it would be a helpful step. You understand, right?"

I probably shouldn't have added that last part. Betsy's gaze hardened.

"The lieutenant told you about me, didn't he?"

I felt like I was zapped with electricity.

"What? What are you talking ab-"

"Save it." She held up her hand and I fell silent. "Gorobets tells nearly everyone who waltzes through here. He's convinced that someone will be able to talk me into getting therapy. Even though it's nobody else's business but my own."

I started backing up against the tent, my eyes fixed on the watchtowers above us. Betsy continued.

"No one is going to 'fix' me, okay? I don't need to be fixed. I'm not sad, I'm angry. I'm angry that there's a repulsive man still wandering around South Vegas. And I can't do anything about it except sit behind the walls of this camp." She pushed her sunglasses up. "So, yeah. I get needing closure. But here's the thing: not everyone gets to have it."

My hands were clenched into fists inside my pockets.

"Would anyone else in the 1st recon help you find him?"

She scoffed. "No, they've all been instructed to stay here as well. I wouldn't force them to go after him anyway."

My mouth felt like I swallowed a fistful of sand.

"What if I helped you?"

Betsy looked at me in shock.

"You would do that?"

I shrugged, hiding my face under the brim of my hat. "You don't think therapy will help, but you think this will. No one else can tell you what your brain needs. But as long as we're both fighting for the republic, I can't have you going out there by yourself."

"Are you sure? You don't want to do this."

"I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't sure."

Betsy was silent for a moment.

"Meet me by the front gate at sunset. I know where he is, so we'll have to act fast. Be ready. Afterwards, I'll talk to lieutenant Boyd about seeing the prisoner."

I nodded, but I felt like I was choking on hot coals. I wondered if this is how Livius felt when we first met. Mindlessly following someone to go after their enemy. But this was what I had to do if I wanted to make any progress with this mission and I couldn't just back. It was far too late for that.

**-Livius-**

It was unusual getting back into a training routine after months without one, but I liked it. NCR training was a lot different from legion training. If we messed up, our commanders would just yell at us and force us to work harder, instead of beating us or forcing us to kill each other. The camp grounds were also smaller, so the laps we had to run didn't hurt as much. It was nice.

The biggest change of all was that we got free time. We would have gaps throughout the day with no training (not including food breaks) and sometimes we would even have days with no training at all. What kind of military base was this?

The breaks were a good chance to check back in with Celeste. I cleaned up after training and tried to make my way to the campgrounds to see her, but my "squad" stopped me.

"Hey, you know that we have the rest of the day off, right?" Douglas smiled at me, but I couldn't tell why.

"I know."

Douglas looked back at the others in our "squad".

Michael piped in from behind his shoulder.

"We were all thinking about spending the evening on the Strip. NCR soldiers get free passes."

My eyes widened. This is where Celeste needed to go. This was perfect!

"Can I bring a friend? She's a soldier too."

Michael's face dropped for some reason.

"Sure, I guess."

Douglas clapped me on the shoulder. "Monorail leaves in about half an hour. Meet us at the entrance."

I raced past them and I found Celeste pacing in front of the main gate. I ran over to her as fast as I could. It felt so good actually being useful on a mission like this. Maybe this would prove to her that I could work under pressure.

Even though I was right next to her, she didn't notice until I started calling her name over and over.

"Stop using my real name." She whispered. "We have fake ones for a reason."

"Sorry." I looked back over at the main building. "But listen: I'm going to the Strip!"

"That's nice." She kept pacing in small circles. "Don't gamble all your money away and remember to wear protection."

"But this is what you-"

"This really isn't a good time, okay?" She narrowed her eyes at me. "Have fun."

My shoulders drooped and I took a step back. What was I doing wrong? I wanted to ask, but she was giving off the same feeling she did when she nearly threw me off of a building. I didn't want to take my chances.

"I'm sorry." I turned back to the building. "Have a nice evening."

...

Me and my "squad" were crammed into a small tube-like building. The building had large windows, but I could only see the inside of a dark tunnel through them. The rest of my "squad" was cheering and talking about how fun this was going to be. Michael sat down next to me and we were quiet unlike the others.

"Is your friend coming?" Michael stared down at his hands.

I still felt guilty from our talk. "No, she couldn't make it."

"Oh, okay."

The floor began to shake and I pulled my feet up onto the bench so they weren't touching it.

Michael laughed. "You haven't been in a monorail before, have you?"

I shook my head. The structure looked prewar. I didn't know how much I should trust prewar technology.

The tube-building bolted forward and I almost fell against Michael from the movement. There was a blinding light and for a second I thought I was dead, but then I looked out the window and saw we were in the sky.

I pressed my face and hands against the window. I never even thought about what the Mojave looked like from this far up. The buildings looked like little rows of squares, the mountains looked like tiny lakes, I couldn't even see the people anymore. I tilted my head up and the clouds were right there. I kept moving around the tube-building to look out of the other windows, in case one would let me see my home back in Arizona.

The view got less impressive when we reached the Strip. Sure it was like nothing I've ever seen before, I didn't like it. All of the buildings were covered in so many multi-colored lights, they looked like they were on fire. Everything looked a lot cleaner than the rest of the wasteland, but I still felt gross. Women wearing small pieces of leather for clothes danced in front of the glowing buildings. I saw people in nice outfits throwing up in the streets.

And the sound; it was all too much. Mixed in with the loud cheering of my "squad", all different kinds of music flowed out of the buildings. Even out in the streets, I could hear the music loud and clear. I didn't even want to know how loud it was inside.

The building we went into was a glowing red one with lots of dancing women outside. I didn't want to go in, but I didn't want to wait outside either so I didn't have much of a choice.

The inside smelled like that stuff Celeste smokes, but a thousand times more intense. The lights were dim and red like the outside. The room was filled with these weird-looking tables, bars, and small stages were more women were dancing. I even saw one women dancing in a cage. I wondered how she got in there. If I were in a cage, I wouldn't dance. I would try to get out of the cage.

We sat down at one of the bars. I kept looking back at Michael to make sure this is what was supposed to happen, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Hey, Stanley!" One of the people in my "squad" (never learned his name) called over from the far end of the bar. "What are you having?"

I looked at the rows and rows of alcohol bottles behind the bartender. I began to feel sick.

"I'll have a water."

My "squad" groaned and I felt my face heat up from embarrassment.

"I mean, I'll have a soda."

That didn't seem to do any better, but I wasn't going to drink alcohol.

I sat at the bar, sipping my soda as I watched the women dance. Well, they weren't really dancing. They would just wiggle around in a weird way, but they had nice bodies so I didn't mind. It did shock me that the women were wearing close to nothing. I was so used to seeing women wearing baggy clothes that covered their bodies. This was okay with me.

Michael didn't drink anything. He looked like he didn't want to be here.

"Are you okay?"

He shrugged and got off of the bar stool. "I'm just tired. I'll wait outside."

I was going to offer to come with him because I wanted to leave, but Douglas came over and dropped a key on the bar.

"Here you go, buddy. My way of saying 'welcome to Camp McCarran'. You can pay me back eventually."

I picked the key up. There was a tag attached to it that had a series of numbers and letters written on it.

"What am I supposed to do with a key?"

Douglas looked at me like I was stupid. He did that a lot. "You go to the room that the key opens. I figured you needed this"

"Oh." I stood up and clenched my hand around the key. After making a few nervous glances at the front door, I tried to navigate my way through the maze of tables and drunk people.

...

I couldn't read the tag the key had, but fortunately the rooms had numbers and letters written on their doors, so all I had to do was match them up. I came to a room at the end of the hall and I pushed it open. I hoped that this was a room where people could get some peace and quiet. My head was ringing from the loud music and the smoke, so this is what I really wanted.

The room appeared to be a bedroom with blankets and pillows everywhere. It looked really nice, but someone else was already inside. A woman was lying on the bed, wearing a flimsy-looking short pink dress. Her hair was a shade of bright red that I haven't seen before. She was really pretty, but she was smoking and that reminded me of Celeste. So it became weird.

I backed up against the door and felt around for the knob. "I'm sorry, is this the wrong room?"

She swung her long legs over the side of the bed and walked over to me. "So you're the shy soldier boy I heard about."

"...shy?"

She had me pushed up against the wall. I could feel her lips on my neck and her long fingernails against my jaw. Everything clicked. Oh, this was supposed to happen. As a legionary I probably shouldn't do these kinds of things, but as long as I was there...

The woman was already pulling the top of my uniform up. I wanted to tell her to be careful with the buttons, but I couldn't get my voice to work. She tugged my shirt off and her nails were roaming my chest and stomach.

"You have a great body." Her lips vibrated against my neck and I shivered.

"Thank you. I try to keep a healthy lifestyle without relying on chems or alcohol."

She didn't seem interested.

Her hands kept moving around my body and I was still as a statue. I didn't care, though. No one ever touched me like that before. Some of the other legionaries used to make fun of me because I never had sex before, but I just never got the chance. This isn't how I pictured it happening, but the woman was pretty and the room felt slightly cleaner so I couldn't complain. Until...

Her fingers traced against the scars on my back. Every muscle in my body tensed up, my heart began racing in my chest, and I blacked out.

**-Celeste-**

I really hoped Livius was having a nice time out on the town, because I had other things to focus on.

Betsy met up with me shortly after Livius left and we made our way to the South Vegas ruins. She moved with an intensity I haven't seen from anyone before. Somehow it seemed that her mind was both determined and wandering at the same time.

We crossed the bridge into fiend territory. The quality of buildings dropped remarkably. Sure the structures on the NCR side of things weren't fantastic, but the fiend buildings were almost all reduced to rubble. Night was usually the time the fiends came out to do their thing, but that night activity was surprisingly low. Because of that, we were able to get to our plan a lot sooner.

I hated our plan.

Our plan was to find Cook-Cook's primary location and then one of us would have to draw him out so the other could get a shot at him.

Which one of us had the honor of luring him out? Here's a hint: it's not the sniper.

Armed with only a rifle I barely knew how to operate, my duty was to be a distraction to a drugged-out psychotic raider who, as I later learned, cooked his enemies alive. Oh the joy.

Betsy was beyond reasoning with at this point. Her steps became stronger, her gaze darkened.

"He's just over there." She pointed with her rifle over to the remains of a blown up building. "I know it."

There was nothing I wanted more in the world than to just run back to camp, but my legs began moving on their own. We moved quietly across the rubble. Even though we were trying to be stealthy, I felt like my heartbeat could be heard from a mile away. I pulled my collar over my neck and clutched my rifle tighter.

Betsy got set up near the top of the building, her rifle pointed down at the rubble below. She gave the signal and at last this horrible, terrible, poorly-conceived plan could begin.

I picked up a rusted tin can and threw it at the wall. "Hey, Cook-Cook!" I kicked at the rubble. "Over here!"

No response. I made my way deeper into the wreckage. The rifle trembled in my hands and it took all of my strength to slow my breathing down. I turned the corner of a blown-down concrete wall and to my dismay, I was no longer alone.

A tall, bulky man wearing tattered remains of armor stood just a few yards from me. His face was covered with an old prewar welding mask, but the flamethrower in his hands was more than enough to tell me that I found the man we were looking for.

He yelled something out, but either the mask or damaged vocal chords left him completely incomprehensible. I spun around and ran as far as I could in the other direction, just in time to dodge a cone of flames that shot out of his flame thrower.

I ran through the wreckage and I could hear his heavy footsteps pounding behind me.

My foot slipped on some loose rubble and I came toppling to the ground. He was closer. I rolled over to the side to avoid getting blasted by the flames.

My lungs were filled with more dust and smoke than air. I wanted to fall over in a coughing mess, but I couldn't bring myself to. I wanted to call out for Betsy, but I couldn't see where she was. I was all turned around with a psychotic raider with a flame thrower chasing after me. All I could do was get to a high area and hope Betsy would be there to take care of the rest.

I made a mad dash over to a set of stairs. Another bad idea. The stairs only lead to a tiny patch of room; dead end. Betsy was still nowhere in sight. I get that's the point of a sniper and all, but come on!

Cook-Cook was running up the stairs after me. I was backed up against the corner. My only hope of escape was jumping over the top of the ruined wall. I was out of options. I turned my hearing aids all the way down so I could hear myself think. The idea of falling to my death seemed like a better option than whatever the raider had in store for me, so I threw myself over the edge.

I fell on cracked concrete with a loud thud. I couldn't move. My chest was heaving and all I could do was look up at Cook-Cook who was still standing where I jumped from. His flame thrower was pointed right at me and I couldn't help but wonder how much of an enabler I was. How many people were left in this state of madness because of me? Did any of the drugs I made wind up in his system?

I began to see black and white checkers instead of tattered leather armor. The conflict in my head fell silent. Once again I was immobilized and at the mercy of another. I doubted that my luck would shine through again.

The sound of a gunshot filled the air. Cook-Cook staggered, then fell over the ledge in a much less graceful way than I did. He landed on the rubble beside me and I didn't move until I was certain that he was completely dead.

I saw Betsy jump down from a nearby building, her rifle in hand.

"Last thing you'll never see." She adjusted her beret on her head. "Sorry about the wait. You were moving around so much I couldn't get a decent shot."

She helped me up and I was still out of breath. She looked down at the corpse.

"Yeah, that's him alright." She unsheathed her knife from her belt. "You should look away now."

I continued to stare in silence as she hacked at the coarse skin of his neck. She pressed her boot against his chest, gripped the top of his greasy head, and pulled. The head was removed after a series of squishy cracking sounds.

"The NCR has a serious bounty on his head." She held onto his head from the hair. "I figured I let you have 50%. I owe you one."

I nodded, but my voice still wouldn't work. Betsy and I finally left the ruins. My mind was still in shock.

**-Livius-**

I don't know when I woke up, but when I did I was sitting on a bench outside and my ankles were hurting. A few minutes later, I noticed I was leaning against Michael's shoulder. I wanted to move, but my head hurt too much.

"What happened?" I stared at the New Vegas skyline. I used to see the light from this city everywhere I was in the Mojave.

Michael shrugged. "I don't know, but I did see you jump out of a window."

I rubbed my eyes. My ears were still ringing and my head was throbbing. Being outside didn't help. There was no fresh air in the city.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner." Michael looked over at me. "I could have told the others if you aren't into that sort of thing. You didn't have to hurt yourself."

I sat up, but I was still shaken. "Did I mess up?"

Michael offered me some water from his canteen. "I mean Douglas may be upset that you wasted his caps, but that isn't important. Are you okay?"

I took the canteen, but I didn't drink anything from it. "Why do you care so much?"

He looked confused and he gripped my hand. "Because I like you, Stanley. You're one of the only friends I've had since I came to McCarran."

My instincts told me to move my hand, but I couldn't. "You don't know me."

"I know you're a devoted soldier, I know you're a good artist, and I know you must have really strong ankles if you could make that fall."

I smiled.

"Michael?"

"What is it?"

I stared down at the street. "Did you want to do stuff here? Because I want to go back to camp."

Michael stood up. "Let's go home. Vegas is overrated anyway."

The monorail trip was a lot better with just us. But at night, there wasn't a lot to look out at through the window other than the bright lights. My head was still spinning, so I didn't have much to talk about. Michael didn't seem to mind. We just sat in silence as the rickety train brought us back to camp.

I saw Celeste standing by the stairwell when we arrived. I didn't know if she wanted to see me, but I ran over to her anyway.

"Hey."

She looked at me, her eyes were grim and tired.

"Hey."

I fiddled with my uniform collar. "Are you okay?"

Celeste shrugged. "I think so. How was the Strip?"

"I jumped out of a building so I didn't have to have sex."

She smirked. "We might have had very similar evenings."

I tilted my head to the side, but her expression told me not to question it.

"Are you still mad at me?"

Celeste sighed. "I was never angry. Just tired."

"Oh, okay." And I left it at that.

...

No one else seemed to be in the area, so I used this as an opportunity to use the showers. I stood in the corner of the locker room, staring at the mirror. It's been so long since I last saw my own reflection. My face had small scars on it from the battle. My hair grows fast and by then it was too long for a legionary or any kind of soldier. With the weight of water from the shower, it almost reached my chin. I kind of liked it.

I turned around so I could see my back. Bad idea. No matter how many disguises I wore, the scars were still there. They covered my back like a second layer of clothing. Each one represented a mistake I made as a legionary. I could feel my eyes tearing up just by looking at them.

The door to the locker room began to open. I secured the towel around my waist and tucked my arms behind my back to hide my tattoos and scars.

Michael stepped out from the showers with only a towel on around his hips. I didn't look. Really.

"We may have missed Vegas, but at least we have the showers to ourselves, right?"

I shrugged. I wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't risk him seeing the markings. He continued to prattle away as I tried to inch my way over to my locker.

"...so, yeah. Douglas isn't mad at you, he just-" He looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I backed up against the lockers. "What do you mean?"

Michael gave me a weird look. "I don't want to sound suspicious, but you look like you're hiding something."

My voice caught in my throat. My locker was on the other side of the room. There was no way I could get to it without him noticing something. I also felt guilt wash over me. I was already lying to him enough.

I let my arms fall naturally at my sides and I sat down on the bench in the center of the room. My body was shaking and I was on the verge of tears. My scars and tattoos were on full display. I hated that he was looking at me. I just wanted to burrow down into the ground and stay there.

Michael was silent for a long time. I wasn't looking forward to his reaction.

"Were you...in a gang?" He sat down on the bench furthest from me.

Tears were pouring down my face. I couldn't even force a proper response out, so I just nodded. I brought my arms close to my chest, rubbing my thumbs against the heavy black tattoos.

"Hey, it's okay." Michael got up and sat down next to me. "Lots of people in the republic were from gangs."

I was slightly relieved that he didn't hate me, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at him. I covered my face with my hands and my nausea increased.

"But my scars..." I wiped my eyes and nose with the back of my wrist, but I still sounded like a blubbering mess. "I still have my scars."

"There's nothing wrong with that! Lots of people have scars." Michael was desperately trying to cheer me up. "And besides, I think yours are kind of cool."

Red flashed in my eyes. "There's nothing 'cool' about being whipped in front of all your friends for talking out of turn. Or for tripping while running laps. Or for drinking all of your water too fast."

Michael's face dropped. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." I stared down at the tiled floor. "I had to learn somehow. Those mistakes are a part of me now."

I could feel Michael's hand on my back and I broke. I cried harder than I ever had before. Michael's hand wasn't moving and he wasn't pressing very hard, but I felt like I was being whipped all over again. It was like his touch awakened the pain.

Through all the gross noises I was making, I could faintly hear Michael say,

"You're not a mistake, Stanley."

I was right.

He really didn't know me.

**-Celeste-**

I didn't know how I would be able to sleep that night. Instead, I sat outside near the inner walls of the camp while I smoked. All I could do was sit there and desperately try not to think of the things my brain wanted me to think about. I was pulled out of my non-thoughts when I heard someone approach me.

"Hey." Betsy leaned against the wall, her sunglasses gleaming in the light from the watchtower. "Can't sleep? Me neither."

I looked down at my hands and I put out my cigarette. "How are you holding up?"

Betsy sighed, then she was quiet.

"I don't know. This is exactly what I wanted, but I still don't feel...whole?" She shrugged. "I thought getting revenge would turn everything back to normal."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong." She adjusted the beret on her head. "I'm glad we did it. There's one less scumbag fiend out there and I get to use his head as target practice whenever I want. But I expected this to solve my problems, but it didn't. I feel like I let him have too much control over my life."

I pulled my jacket closer around my shoulders. "I worry about that myself." I didn't mean for Betsy to hear that, but it's hard to hide anything from a sniper.

Betsy gave me a strange look. "What do you mean?"

My fingers went back to the scar on my head, now completely covered by my hat and hair. "I'm trying to track down a man as well. He shot me in the head."

"Shit." Betsy tried to get a better look at the scar. "Looks like you're lucky to be standing."

"I know, but that's not enough." I pulled my glasses off and rubbed my eyes. "I have no idea who this man is, but he plagues my brain. I've been obsessing over finding him so I can finally have peace of mind. I thought that finding him would solve all of my other problems. But what if I'm just wasting my time?"

Betsy took a long time to respond.

"Maybe this isn't the path for you."

I looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Revenge is a nice start, but it sounds like you have some other issues you need sorted out."

"I guess."

"Let's make it a deal, then." She held her hand out. "If you go seek professional help, I'll do it too. Maybe this will make the lieutenant happy."

I stared at her hand for a long time before I found the power within myself to shake it.

"Now you better keep this promise." Betsy's handshake felt like a death grip. "You can't lie to 1st Recon."

I smiled a little bit, but my mind was elsewhere.

"You get some sleep, alright?" Betsy turned away from me. "I talked to Boyd about letting you have an audience with the prisoner. Think of it as my way of saying thanks."

I nodded in response, my eyes still cast downwards on the ground. My mind continued to wander long after Betsy left. It's been weeks, months, of traveling through the Mojave. I could see the glowing light from the Strip just a few miles away. I was so close! Could I really throw it all away? Could I really allow Benny to continue living?

I decided to hold up my end of the promise, but I knew one thing was certain.

Whether or not it would grant me complete comfort, it was too early for forgiveness.

I was going to have my revenge.


	10. Chapter 10

**-Livius-**

I didn't like being around my squad after going to the Strip, but I had to. They were starting to grow on me.

During one of our many breaks, I laid down on my cot and propped my arms up on the windowsill. The NCR camp felt so bleak compared to where the Legion would train. The Legion was brutal, but the air felt fresh. The sky was a hard, cloudless blue that faded into red mountains below. The river gleamed under the southwestern sun. But from my window in Camp McCarran, all I could see was gray concrete. I've been traveling through profligate territories for so long, I almost didn't notice how drab and broken everything was. It was sad.

"Stanley?" Michael called me from the foot of his cot. "You okay?"

Michael was still the only one in my squad that I talked to, but I still felt uncomfortable around him. He saw my scars. Even Celeste hasn't seen them. Michael had the information to destroy me, but he never mentioned it. I don't understand.

I shrugged and flopped down on my cot. During the weeks we spent at camp, we managed to get our stuff back from that gross motel. My bag fell off of the cot and the teddy bear I took came out.

I got up and tried to put it back in.

"Sorry, I don't know what that is."

Michael smiled. I don't know if he was making fun of me, but it sure felt like it.

"It's okay. Actually, could you come over here?"

I stuffed the teddy bear back into my bag and went to sit next to Michael. I watched him unlock his footlocker with the 3 number code-thing. When he opened the metal lid, I couldn't see anything of note. Just paper and socks.

Michael pushed the papers to the side, revealing a bunch of small plastic toys. They were all shaped like little creatures like the toys back in Novac, but some were different. Some of the creatures had long necks, some had large skin-like wings, there were some that had spikes on their tails.

"I still have my toy dinosaurs from when I was a kid." Michael picked up an orange flying one. "Nothing wrong with holding onto this stuff."

"I've seen one like this before." I looked at the green one with tiny claws and large teeth. "Back in Novac. They had a lot of them."

"Oh, Dinky? Yeah I have a bunch of those." He showed me a blue one that had large, broad spikes going down its back. "This one's my favorite."

"Where did you get these? Novac only had the green ones."

Michael continued smiling, but I saw his face twitch. He spun one of the creatures around by its tail. "I'm from Freeside. Things aren't great there, but my mom had to make a living somehow. There were a lot of guys coming in, and some of them would give me toy dinosaurs. I loved dinosaurs as a kid, so I didn't think much of it at the time."

I looked down at the dinosaur in my hand. I didn't want to hold it anymore.

"I'm sorry."

Michael shrugged. "My story's not that unusual out here. I mean, I don't feel right complaining after hearing what you've been through."

I felt my face grow cold. "I don't think you can measure these sort of things."

He smiled at me. "That's a good way of looking at it. After all, my background did motivate me to fight for the NCR."

I just nodded.

"Is that what happened to you too?"

I looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

Michael looked around and lowered his voice. "You know, your past? Is that why you joined the NCR?"

I couldn't bring myself to speak, but fortunately I didn't have to. Celeste's voice cut in from the entrance of the room.

"Come on, Stanley." Her fingers drummed impatiently against the doorframe. "We have a meeting with Lieutenant Boyd."

I looked back at Michael and I put the dinosaurs down. "I have to go now. Thank you."

He just smiled and closed his footlocker. "No problem. Good luck."

…

Celeste lead me down a large metal hallway. She was talking to me about something, but my mind was elsewhere.

"Are you listening to me?" She stopped in front of one of the doors.

"What?"

She sighed. "Lieutenant Boyd is in charge of interrogating the prisoner. We're going to meet with that legion guy today. AKA, the reason you wanted to come here in the first place."

I felt my mouth go dry. Oh right, I almost forgot about that. How was that even possible?

"Then let's do it."

Celeste knocked on the door then pushed it open. The room on the other side was drab like the rest of the camp with just a simple desk and some lockers. The entire room smelled like smoke. A woman with short black hair tucked under a green beret leaned against the wall while she smoked.

"Lieutenant." Celeste saluted and I followed her example. It was strange seeing her act like a soldier.

The lieutenant woman blew smoke out of the side of her mouth. "So you're the newcomers who came to help?"

I looked over her shoulder at the far wall. There was a large window and through the glass I could see a man in full legion centurion armor. He sat hunched over in his chair, his black hair was long and messy around his face. My body went cold. This was him. This was my centurion.

"Here's the situation:" Boyd paced in front of us, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Recently, we captured an honest-to-god legionary centurion."

Celeste tilted her head to the side. "Is that a big deal?"

Boyd stopped. "You better believe it. Everyone in Caesar's Legion, no matter which rank, will kill themselves to avoid capture. That's why it's so hard to capture one alive. They're so jumpy about it."

I felt like I was going to be sick. I stared down at my feet and tried my hardest not to listen to whatever she was saying.

"But then there's this guy, who is a high-ranked commander in his army, and he just gives himself up." She put out her cigarette. "Do you know what this means?"

I didn't say anything, so Celeste responded for me.

"We can get information out of him?"

Boyd sighed, smoke drifted out of her mouth and to the ceiling. "That was the plan, but it hasn't been working out in our favor. This guy just won't talk, unless it's to insult you. He's a real prick, but what do you expect from the legion?"

Celeste shrugged. "We can beat him up?"

She laughed. "Oh believe me, I would. But unfortunately the Republic doesn't approve of violence towards prisoners of war. Especially with our strained relationship with Freeside, it would not do our image any favors. Also I can't risk him getting hurt. Asshole's too valuable."

"So where does that leave us?"

Boyd glanced back at the window. "I figured we take turns interrogating him until he's mentally exhausted. He has to break eventually."

"I want to talk to him alone." My voice came out quiet and shaky.

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow at me. "If this is part of some revenge fantasy of yours, remember I can't let you-"

"It's not about revenge." I kept my gaze on my shoes. "I promise."

Boyd looked at me strangely, then she nodded.

"Alright. Your friend and I will take a shot at him. Then I'll call you in."

…

All I could do was sit in front of the window as Celeste and the lieutenant yelled at my centurion. I knew of some profligate interrogation methods, mostly the one called "Good Cop, Bad Cop". I don't know what a cop is, but I'm pretty sure someone has to be the "good" one. I couldn't hear anything Celeste and Boyd were saying through the glass, but it just looked like two crazy women yelling at a legionary.

My centurion didn't give into their yelling, but he didn't look like the proud legionary I remember. He looked exhausted and miserable, even his armor seemed more like a dead weight than a symbol of military status. I didn't like seeing him like this.

The door creaked open and the two stepped out.

"We didn't get anywhere with that, but it was great to blow off some steam." Boyd looked over at me. "You're on, kid."

I got up, my mind was racing with all the things I wanted to say to him.

Celeste gave me a concerned look, but I ignored her and stepped inside.

Walking towards him, I felt like I was back in legionary training. When I was standing in front of him, he looked at me up and down with a look of disgust on his face.

"Looks like the Republic decided to unleash their junior division on me." He said with a sneer. "I must say I'm _terrified_."

I felt like I was choking on my own tongue, but I forced myself to say something.

"You don't recognize me, Silus?"

He groaned. "One of these? Alright, I'll play along. Who did I kill? Your family? Your friends? Your loved ones? Did you cry in the corner like a miserable fucking degenerate while my men slit their throats? Did you enlist in the NCR army just to get your revenge? Because if that's the case, I'm not impressed."

My palms were sweating and trembling in my pockets. I felt like I was going to fall over.

"I'm not with the Republic." I made my voice as quiet as possible. "My name is Livius. I'm a legionary. I served you in your century."

Silus frowned at me. "Is that so? Hard to believe."

"We were to ambush the NCR soldiers monitoring Primm, but you took too long to take action. The rangers found us, there was no hope for us. You should have slit your throat like the rest, but instead you allowed yourself to get captured."

"Awful tough talk from someone who didn't kill himself either, especially someone who has the nerve to stand before me in the enemy's uniform."

My mind was spinning. I was going to pass out.

"I'm alive, but it's not because I'm a coward. I wasn't going to die unless my friends got a proper burial. Unlike you, I didn't get captured. I still have a chance. I'm going to make sure you don't tell any of Caesar's secrets to the NCR. And then I will do whatever it takes for the legion to take me back. Because unlike you, I'm still a loyal soldier."

Silus stood up to his full height.

"Recruits aren't known for their brightness, but you must be especially stupid if you think the legion will take you back."

I held eye contact with him. "Maybe, but I'm going to try."

"You're hopeless. You've been out of the legion's control for months now, but Caesar still has you by the short hairs." The tone in his voice never moved. "Let me guess, you still think he's the son of Mars."

I didn't say anything.

"Caesar is a megalomaniacal self-appointed dictator. Tell me, recruit. How long have you been serving him?"

"I've been fighting for him ever since I could hold a machete."

"And when has he ever even acknowledged you?"

"He made eye contact with me once..."

Silus scoffed. "And you really want to return to that?"

"The legion is my purpose in life. I have to try to get a second chance."

"And if they crucify you instead?"

"Then I'll gladly accept that punishment."

Silus glared at me. "You are hopeless."

"I'm not hopeless, because I'm not giving up. My hope for the future of the Mojave and the legion is keeping me from quitting."

Silus was silent for a long time. He just kept staring at me with a calculating look.

"You're right. I'm nothing like you."

I was shocked. "What?"

"You're nothing to the legion, just a face in a crowd. Caesar probably already has a replacement for you. You're not a valuable officer like me. You should have died with the others."

My entire body began to tremble. I strained to hold his gaze. I would not show weakness. But I couldn't take it anymore. I turned around and stormed out of the room.

The door slammed behind me and Celeste jumped.

"Hey, are you-"

I left before I could hear her finish.

I ran down the hall and out of the main building. Michael was standing at the end of the hall. I almost didn't notice him.

"Glad I ran into you here. I was wondering if-"

I didn't even bother to listen to him finish. I couldn't be around any NCR soldiers. My mind wouldn't have been able to process anything he said anyway. I brushed past him and scurried down the stairs as fast as I could.

It was night by the time I went outside. I found a secluded corner by some crates and I sat down. I was still shaking, but I wasn't crying. I told myself I would never do that again.

It pained me how much Silus was right. I was a recruit. I had no purpose. I was just one soldier in a line. One body in a uniform. One corpse in the ground.

I heard angry steps coming at me. At first I thought it was Celeste, but I looked up and saw the shadowy outline of an NCR soldier. Before I could speak, his gloved hand snapped forward and wrapped around my throat.

"Next time you're going to infiltrate my camp, try not to do it in a room with microphones."

I clawed at his hand and stared up at him with wide eyes. All I could hope was that he would leave Celeste out of this.

He pushed me up against the wall, knocking the breath out of me.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't send you back across the river in pieces."

I couldn't breathe. My eyes were wide and bulging. The soldier's hand went from my throat to my wrist. Before I had a chance to take a breath, he dragged me back to camp. I didn't even bother to pull against him. I didn't have the strength. My feet trailed awkwardly behind him as the soldier pulled me back into the main building.

My breathing became more and more rapid when I imagined everything the NCR would do to me. I'd be locked up in a cell with Silus somewhere. That was the last man I wanted to be stuck in a room with, especially after everything I said to him. The NCR would break me easily, I knew that. My only choice was to die.

But I wasn't ready to die. I know a recruit shouldn't be thinking things like that, but I wasn't. I knew I still had a purpose to fulfill. Now it was going to be thrown away.

The soldier tossed me into his office and slammed the door. I forced myself to my feet as I tried to look for a way to off myself. Slamming my head against the desk? Stabbing myself with a pen? These were pathetic ways for a soldier to die. I doubted I would go through with it anyway.

He looked around the perimeter of the room while I stayed in place. There was no use escaping.

"Okay, we can talk here. Don't worry about getting caught. There are no recording devices in here."

I stared at him.

"What?"

The soldier sighed. "You don't catch on easily, do you?" He sat down in his chair and took his green beret off. "My name is Captain Curtis, but you probably know me as Picus."

I shook my head.

"Oh, I see." He rolled his chair closer to me. "Then I'll make it simple for you; I'm a frumentarius. I've been posing as a captain here on behalf of the Legion for four years now."

I was speechless. You really can't ever escape the legion. There was a part of me that didn't know if I should believe him, but I was running out of options.

I bowed my head. "If you have to take me back to the Fort as a prisoner, I won't resist."

Picus stood up. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm a traitor."

He leaned against his desk. "If that's the case, your ability to lie would make you a perfect frumentarius. But what you said in the centurion, it sounded genuine. There's still hope for you. _If,_ you're willing to help me out."

My eyes widened. "But I'm just a recruit."

"I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself. Don't sell yourself short."

I couldn't believe what was happening. My entire body was shaking under the stupid NCR uniform.

"How may I serve the legion, sir?"

For an instant, I thought back to Celeste. All the times she told me I was more than a legionary. The times she told me to abandon my legion ways. I thought back to Silus and how he told me that there was no hope in returning to the legion. I thought back to Michael and how he honestly believed that I joined the NCR to redeem myself.

Was I letting these people down? I don't care.

At that moment, helping Picus is what I needed to do.

And it's what I wanted to do.

Celeste wanted me to think for myself.

Maybe I finally was.


	11. Chapter 11

**-Livius-**

The instructions Picus gave me were clear. The monorail connecting McCarran to the Strip was the NCR's only way of transferring supplies and troops without fighting through raiders. If the monorail was destroyed, the communication would be weaker. My job was to sneak a bomb into the train.

This isn't the kind of legion work I was used to.

"You'll find the supplies you need in the trash next to the ticketing counter." Picus paced back and forth in front of me. "I recommend you get moving. This plan will only work at night."

I nodded, still unable to speak.

"Oh," Picus stopped. "And one more thing I forgot to mention. It will be only a matter of time until the NCR traces this back to me. To buy some time, I need a scapegoat."

"A what?"

"A scapegoat, do you know what that means?"

I shook my head, shame washed over me. I wasn't ready for this.

He sighed. "I need to pin this operation on someone else."

"That someone isn't me, right?"

"Only if you're stupid enough to incriminate yourself." He sat back down on his rolling chair. "In the trash can, you will find some documents. The second part of your task is to smuggle the documents into someone else's locker."

"But I don't know anyone's combination."

Picus stood up again. "I don't care if you have to pry the locks open with your fingers. Find a way!"

I saluted. "Yes, sir!"

He waved me away. "You are dismissed."

...

I had to wait an hour before I could plant the bomb. Before 1 AM, there was this brief window of time where there were no guards watching the monorail. This was my chance.

The NCR uniforms were bulky enough so it didn't look like I was hiding anything. I managed to slip past the other troopers and into the monorail station. Everything was turned off, so I had to open the train doors myself. I didn't like being there at night. Well, I didn't like being there in general. But at night, it was too quiet and dark. The only light came from the tiny windows at the top of the station. Every noise I made echoed throughout the station. It was unsettling and kind of creepy. And once again, everything was gray. I don't get profligates and their need for gray things.

I climbed into the train. It still looked the same from when Michael and I took it to the Strip. After that, I felt my need to destroy this thing rise. I unbuttoned my uniform jacket and took the bomb out. It was set to go off at 7:00 the next morning, so I had plenty of time. I knelt down in front of one of the vents and took a screwdriver out of my pocket. The cover for the vent was removed and I slipped the bomb inside. I reattached the vent cover and took a step back. There was a faint red light from inside, but it wasn't noticeable. My heart was still pounding in my chest, but my breathing was returning to normal. I buttoned up my uniform and left the monorail. Now I just needed to find a scrapegot, or whatever Picus said.

...

The documents were easy to find, but now I had a different problem.

Everyone else was asleep. I paced back and forth around our cots. Each cot had a footlocker in front of it, each with its own three-digit combination.

I looked back down at the documents. There wasn't much light, but even if the room was bright I wouldn't have been able to read it. The writing was very small and close together. I couldn't imagine how anyone without the eyes of a nightstalker could read it. The only thing I recognized was the symbol on the top of the page: a bull. I didn't know the Legion made papers like this. Huh.

I backed up against the wall and clutched the papers to my chest. I was running out of time. I had to plant these documents on someone.

But I only knew the combination to Michael's footlocker.

I began to feel sick, but I didn't know why. I could try someone else's footlocker. How many three digit numbers can be made anyway? I would have to guess it eventually.

But I was running out of time. The longer I just stood around, the greater my chances of being caught. I took a deep breath and crept over to Michael's locker.

I was quiet, but inside I was screaming every apology I could think of. Michael was the only one here who made me feel like I wasn't an outsider. He put his trust in me and I was happier around him.

But he was still the enemy.

My fingers were shaking, but I turned the wheel-things to unlock the locker. I held my breath and opened the lid. My hand was sweating around the documents, but I pushed his other stuff to the side and slid the documents in under the dinosaur toys. I stayed there for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut and keeping my fingers clamped on the papers. I still had a chance. I still had a chance to take the papers back and find some other way to continue this mission.

My breath escaped my throat and I let go of the paper. The footlocker closed as quietly as it opened. I ran out of the room and curled up against one of the walls. I felt so stupid for doing this, but then I felt stupid for feeling stupid. I was a legionary. This was something I had to do.

**-Celeste-**

We got what we wanted. Livius was able to have his little encounter with his legion buddy, I got access to the Strip. It was time to get the fuck out of there.

I didn't chase after Livius when he ran out of the interrogation room. I should have, because having an emotional legionary running around an NCR camp is not a good idea, but Boyd stopped me before I had a chance.

"Not exactly the effect I was looking for." Boyd offered me a cigarette and a light.

"He'll be okay, I hope." I took the cigarette. "He just gets like this."

Boyd looked down at me. "Isn't he the guy who went to the Strip and jumped out of a window?"

I laughed. "You heard about that?"

She shrugged. "Either your friend is a real party animal, or Vegas prices are worse than I remember."

"I have a feeling it isn't the former."

Boyd sat down at her desk. "You ever been to the Strip?"

I perked up in my seat. "No, but I've always wanted. Looks like a cool city."

"It's not for everyone, but you could go whenever you want."

I looked up at her. "Really?"

She waved some smoke away. "Yeah, but you have to come back."

My smile twitched, but I had hope that Livius and I would be in the clear once we ditched this whole false identity business.

"I was planning on just stopping by. I can't take too much city at once."

Boyd stood up. "Well the monorail leaves tomorrow at seven."

"In the evening?"

She smirked. "In the morning."

My face dropped. No matter how much time I spent in military bases, I would never be used to early wakeup calls. I was not well-liked in the Enclave.

"Thank you, lieutenant." I gave her a salute, I was getting better at this.

She just walked over to the far side of the office. "Don't sweat it. We'll pick this up later.

...

How hard is it to find a legionary in an NCR base?

I couldn't find Livius after leaving the office, I couldn't find him at dinner, I couldn't even find him while wandering around the camp before light's out. My mouth went dry. Did I lose him? Was he discovered? I shouldn't have trusted him to be alone for this long.

These thoughts kept me up all night, which wasn't good because I had to get up early. I didn't like the idea of Livius being alone in a place like this. Maybe I was being overprotective. But maybe I didn't want this plan to be ruined because Livius couldn't keep his trap shut.

Morning came too quickly. I crawled out of my cot and rubbed my eyes under my glasses. 6:30, still had plenty of time to find this weasel.

I couldn't eat breakfast. Instead I paced around the mess hall, frantically checking the clock every few minutes. He had to get there eventually. I saw his squad, but that's it. Was he sick? Hurt? Kidnapped? I wasn't allowed to check the boy's dorm to make sure. I tried to make my false identity androgynous, but they still separated the sexes. Fuck me.

At the table, I saw that brown-haired kid I saw Livius talking to a lot. What was his name? Mitch? Mickey? Either way, I walked over to him.

He seemed to tense up when I got closer.

"Can I help you?"

I cleared my throat. "Have you seen Stanley?"

His expression softened. "I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon. Sorry."

I nodded and looked back at the clock. I was running out of time.

"Well if you see him, could you tell me to meet me at the monorail at seven?"

He looked down at his food and nodded. "Yeah, I'll do that."

I turned back around and ran towards the monorail. Even if Livius didn't show up, I could always come back for him after booking a nice room.

I just needed to get my foot in the door.

**-Livius-**

I couldn't face anyone else.

I spent the morning aimlessly wandering around the camp. Whenever I was questioned, I would just say I was patrolling. They believed me for some reason.

My head was spinning and my legs were shaking. The closer it got to seven, the more I thought I was going to puke. But this is what the legion wanted. Picus would be proud, Caesar would be proud. I had to keep reminding myself of the end goal just to feel sane.

I was walking past one room when I heard the sound of clanging metal. I looked over and saw Silus in his cell, slapping the bars with his hand. I guess he still had some power over me, because I entered the room.

"What is it?" I crossed my arms and stared at him. This was so surreal.

"I was thinking..." He maintained eye contact with me through a curtain of messy black hair. "You're still trying for this 'loyal recruit' thing, so how about letting me out?"

"Why would I help a traitor?"

Silus's gaze darkened. "I'm your centurion, boy. Don't you forget that."

"You were my centurion. Don't you forget where you are."

His fingers drummed against the cell bars. "I'm not asking for much. All I need is a weapon. I can take it from there."

I was losing my patience with him, but I pulled the screwdriver out of my pocket and handed it to him.

"Here." I pushed it through the bars. "Now leave me alone."

He broke into a grin and picked the tool up. "After what you've said to me, let's hope we don't run into each other again."

I turned out of the prison and scurried down the stairs. I was wasting too much time, I needed to find Celeste. Seven was approaching. I hoped that if Celeste was around me when the bomb goes off, she wouldn't suspect it was me.

I couldn't find her, but I did run into Michael. I thought I was going to pass out. I turned my face away from him and tried to hurry past him.

"Hey." He called out and my feet came to a stop. "What's going on?"

I still couldn't look at him and I kept staring down at my feet.

"Are you mad at me?"

_Don't look at him. Don't look at him._

"Well your friend wanted me to tell you that she's at the monorail."

My stomach felt like I was being dropped into the Grand Canyon. That's right, the Strip! My entire body shook. I felt like I was going to pass out. No, I didn't have time to panic.

I didn't even acknowledge Michael as I bolted back to the monorail. Everything else around me was a blur. My vision was cloudy. But I couldn't afford to waste any time.

Two troopers guarding the entrance to the station tried to stop me, but I pushed my way past them. The train was already filled up and the door was starting to slide closed, but I shoved my foot in before it could close all the way.

"Stop the train!" I screamed as loud as I could. I saw Celeste sitting near the window and giving me a weird look. I just wanted to grab her and run.

"We haven't started moving yet." One trooper girl said. "And it's automatic."

I shoved my way through the crowd and slammed my fist against this red button. Sirens blared through the train and everyone except Celeste and me dropped to the ground.

An NCR man, this one of a higher rank than the others, stormed onto the train.

"What the hell is going on?"

I pointed to the vent. "There's a bomb on the train!"

His eyes narrowed. "Everyone step back."

The crowd walked back against the far end of the train. Celeste kept glancing at me through the corner of her eye.

All I could do was watch helplessly as a group of NCR people pried the vent from the wall. Gasps filled the air as they pulled the bomb out. I could feel Celeste's glare burning into my skin.

An entire squad was called in to defuse the bomb and we were all forced off of the train. Celeste was still glaring at me.

The bomb was dealt with, but we weren't allowed back onto the train. Something about further investigation. Celeste and I sat down in the main building. I could tell she was suspicious of me, but I didn't care. She was alive and not blown to pieces. That was enough.

"We're leaving tonight." Was the first thing she said to me in a while. "This place is getting to your head."

I didn't even argue, I just nodded. At the far end of the room, I could see Picus. His arms were crossed and he was glaring in my direction. I would have to face him eventually.

I got up from my chair. "I have to go."

Celeste waved me away. "I hope you have a blast."

My eye twitched, but I turned away from her and walked over to Picus.

"What the fuck was that?" He kept his voice quiet, but I could hear the fury leaking through each word. "This could have put a serious dent in the NCR's morale and their battle presence and you throw it away? And for what? A girl?"

"I didn't do it for a girl. I did it for my friend."

He glared at me, as if daring me to start apologizing but I didn't.

"You're right. You're hopeless. You're not loyal to Caesar, you'll follow anyone who tells you what to do. If you think the Legion will take you back, you're just as stupid as you look."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

I waited for him to hit me or something, but he didn't.

"The legion will be hearing about this betrayal."

I didn't bother to respond. There was no point in arguing with a frumentarius.

...

I was walking back to the main room after getting my things, when I felt someone grab my wrist and pull me into a storage closet. Before I had a chance to yell out, the light flicked on and I saw Michael staring back at me. His eyes were wide and red-rimmed and he was shaking all over.

"Stanley, I'm freaking out." He kept his voice in a frantic whisper.

I knew what was coming. I choked down a response and nodded.

"Someone framed me for the bombing attempt." He rubbed his forehead, his voice made it sound like he was going to break any second. "They found legion documents in my locker."

My fingers clenched around one of the shelves and I stared down at my feet. The walls were closing in on me. I wanted to run out of the room. I hated everything about this.

"But it wasn't me!" He looked back at me, I could see tears prickling in his eyes. "You know that, right? I would never work for the Legion! Please tell me you believe me!"

I did everything I could to steady my breathing. "I believe you."

He seemed to relax slightly, but he still looked panicked.

"Thank you, that's what I needed to hear." He held his face in his hands. "But the captain still called for my execution."

I felt like he just punched me in the face. Honestly I would have preferred that. I reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"I can get you out of here."

He looked up at me and placed a hand on my forearm.

"You'd do that? But you're a soldier too."

I glanced over to the side. "My cousin and I have to leave for family reasons. You can come with me."

Michael's grip on my arm tightened. "But my duty is to fight for the NCR."

"And they're going to kill you if you keep doing that. Please, leave with me."

He didn't say anything, but he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face against my chest. A gasp escaped me, but I kept my hand on his shoulder. I hated being a traitor like this,

but sometimes it was just too easy. And sometimes it was actually quite nice.

**-Celeste-**

Maybe I was being too hard on the kid, but that idea went straight out the window when I saw the bomb.

Obviously he's the one who planted it. Guilt leaks through that boy's face like acid through rice paper. But it occurred to me that there was someone else behind this. I only got a brief look at the bomb, but it looked way too complex to be something Livius did on his own. There had to be someone else here who supported the Legion, which meant they knew about Livius. One more reason to get out of this camp as quickly as possible.

Which is why it was very troubling when I was sitting in the main building and he was nowhere to be seen.

I pulled my bag onto my lap and kept scanning the crowd for Livius. Everyone was still in a frenzy from the bomb. I couldn't be around this anymore, especially if I was slightly responsible.

An NCR trooper with long black hair tucked under his hat sat down next to me. I glanced at him through the corner of my eye.

"Yes?"

He looked back at me and I recognized him as the legionary prisoner from the day before.

I sighed. "He helped you escape, didn't he?"

He nodded.

"I'm going to kill him."

Livius returned much later, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Silus.

"What's he doing here?"

"He's here because you released him." I stood up and marched over to him. "What on earth were you thinking?"

Livius glanced over to the side. "I just gave him a screwdriver..."

"Not the screwdriver!" I grabbed his shoulders. "I'm talking about the monorail."

He was shaking in my grasp. "But nothing happened."

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"But you're okay now!" He rubbed his face with his hands. "I had to sacrifice my chances of ever returning to the Legion to make sure you were okay."

Any response died in my throat. I let go of Livius and stepped back.

"Either way, we need to get out." I looked back at Silus. "You coming with us?"

"Only if your recruit behaves himself."

Livius looked like he was about to explode with rage. Honestly it was kind of funny seeing him like that.

...

With all of the security stationed around the monorail, our escape didn't feel like an escape. It was still afternoon so we were able to avoid any major raider activity, but we had to keep walking along the outer wall of the camp.

The further away we got, I kept seeing Livius glancing over his shoulder. Each time I questioned him on it, I never got a direct response.

We decided to pool our money and rent a hotel room near Freeside. But I was the only one with any caps, so really I just had to pay for the whole thing.

It did feel good to finally be out of that uniform. I laid back against the hotel floor and stared up at the crumbling ceiling. Livius and Silus remained on opposite sides of the room. I could feel tensions strengthening between us. I would apologize, but then again I wasn't the one who put a bomb on a train.

I wasn't letting that one pass.


	12. Chapter 12

**-Celeste-**

I woke up earlier than anyone should. Silus and Livius were still asleep. I rolled onto my side and stared through the threadbare curtains. Light from the Strip was seeping into our room. It's funny how that light always seems to follow me, but now it was staring me right in the face.

My hand went to the scar on my forehead. My hair was completely covering it at that point. I sighed and rubbed my fingers along the stitches. I remember when it felt like my injury was the biggest part of me. It consumed my mind, dictated my every action. I feel like I've gotten better, but maybe it's just like the hair. The scar is still there, just covered up.

I rolled away from the window and tried to go back to sleep. The nightmares, the auditory hallucinations, the throbbing headaches, they all seemed to vanish. But I was left with a feeling of general apathy. I don't know if that's better.

...

Even though we could walk to the Strip's front gates from our apartment, none of us had enough money to buy our way in. I mean, we were only a thousand caps short.

Getting work in Freeside was tough without selling your body on the street (a suggestion Livius did not appreciate) or selling your bodily organs on the street (a suggestion Silus did not appreciate), so the only work I could find was picking up tin cans around town. Yes, this was a definite fall from grace. I went from being a top chemist for the Enclave, to a wasteland doctor, to a wasteland drug dealer, and now a trash picker-upper. But I suppose there are worse jobs. At least I wasn't a legionary.

Freeside did have a crime problem that made my job a lot more difficult. People would randomly attack me with crowbars or switchblades, but I was usually able to get away. That wasn't the hard part of the job.

No the most difficult part was walking through the other drug dealer's territory.

Halfway towards our apartment was a blown up section of town that was crawling with junkies, addicts, and abusers. I didn't like seeing this. My feet shuffled against the rubble and I took a long way around to avoid contact with an old man who was shaking in a cold sweat. I tried to tell myself that this wasn't my fault, but even that I was finding hard to believe. The words Livius said back in Novac rang through my damaged ears.

I held the bag of cans closer to my chest and made a mad dash back home.

...

The three of us had to eat out of cans for dinner. It wasn't that bad, actually reminded me of being back in my shack.

I didn't like that Silus was there. I didn't know if Livius even wanted him around. But he wasn't bothering anyone at the moment. He just sat against the wall and turned the can around in his hands. It was hard to believe that he was an elite commander at some point.

Livius ate his food like it was the first meal he's eaten in years. I didn't think canned food was that good. Something else seemed to be occupying his mind. I was going to question him on it, but he hasn't spoken to me since McCarran. Maybe that was for the best. I was still angry, who wouldn't be? The centurion staying with us didn't help.

Livius tossed his can to the side and stood up, grabbing his bag.

"I'm going for a walk."

I choked down the rest of my food. "You want me to come with you? These parts can get pretty dangerous at night."

He seemed very insistent on going alone. He backed up against the door.

"No, just me. You two have fun."

The door slammed behind him. I glanced over at Silus before looking back down at my squishy food.

Believe it or not, I was still not used to the company of legionary soldiers.

**-Livius-**

I needed a reason to get out of the house. Not because of Silus, but of course I didn't mind getting away from him. I really wished I could have left earlier, but this was the only time that worked.

The sun was setting by the time I left Freeside, but I was able to get to my first destination before it got dark. I buried my NCR uniform in a bag just outside the camp. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was still there. I rubbed my forehead and changed as quickly as I could without anyone seeing me. I slipped a knife into my sleeve and adjusted my hat over my eyes. Then I ran back into Camp McCarran.

I didn't stop to talk to anyone else. I only had one goal in mind. I ran into the main room then up the stairs to the prisons. A guard stepped out, strapping his ring of keys to his belt, and I waited until he turned around. My breaths came out in little silent huffs as I snuck up behind him.

My hand clasped over his mouth and I pressed the knife against his throat.

"Not a sound."

He grunted against my palm and I sliced his throat. I removed the keys from his belt and abandoned his body in a nearby storage closet. I let my breathing return to normal, then I ran into the prisons.

Michael was curled up against the wall of his cell and I felt a huge sense of guilt and happiness when I saw him. A weird combination. I raced over to the cell door and began trying to unlock it.

"Stanley?" He slowly got up from his cot and made his way over to me. "You came back?"

"I don't leave people behind." I managed to find the right key and I opened the door for him.

Michael reached out to hug me, but I pushed him away.

"Not until I get you out of here."

He nodded and I handed him my hat and scarf so he could hide his face.

"So, what's the plan?" Michael whispered at me, pushing his scarf down.

I stilled, realizing I haven't thought that far ahead.

"Just...leaving, I guess."

He stared at me. "You mean we're just going to walk out the front door?"

"Something like that."

He stopped to think for a moment.

"Well I'm going to die either way. I just don't want you to get tangled up in this."

"I want to get tangled up in this. That's why I'm here."

I grabbed Michael's wrist as we ran towards the front entrance. We were almost at the courtyard when I saw someone walking towards us. I stopped and shoved Michael into a broom closet. I guess that was my go-to strategy now.

"Hey, Stanley." Douglas stopped in front of me. "You're still here?"

I blocked the closet door with my body. "I forgot a few things. How are you?"

He sighed and shrugged. "You're smart for getting out. Morale's at an all-time low after the whole monorail incident."

I just nodded.

"Sorry about Michael, I know he was your friend." He patted me on the shoulder and I shrank away. "But you did the right thing by telling everyone, I hope you know that."

"Yeah, I just couldn't keep that information inside." I kept staring down at my feet. "I still feel guilty."

Douglas's expression softened. "He was a good soldier, but remember where his loyalty lies. I know that won't help completely, but it's a start."

I choked down a response and nodded. Douglas said his goodbyes and went back down the hall. When he was gone, I opened the closet door.

Michael stepped out, rubbing his eyes. "It's surreal hearing that from my own squad. I thought they would have believed me."

I didn't say anything. I just grabbed his arm and lead him back down the hall.

I thought the NCR would have increased their security after the train incident, but it looked like their biggest concern was upping their security around the monorail. Michael and I were able to slip out of camp quite easily. He sat down on a boulder as I changed back into my normal clothing.

"So...this is it?" He rested his chin in his hands.

"Not exactly." I stood up, grabbing my machete from my bag. "It's night and there are raiders around here. I can fight them off for you."

He smirked. "So are you my bodyguard now?"

I tossed him my rifle. "Try 'friend'. Let's go."

I was always used to raiders fighting with shoddy improvised weapons or near-broken guns, but the ones around Freeside apparently got their hands on energy weapons. The night air was lit up with multi-colored lights and laser sounds. Michael had to fight most of them off since he had the ranged weapon. I mean, I helped too of course.

We managed to lose them when we got to the Freeside gate. The door creaked open and I couldn't breathe until we were safe. Well, safe-er.

Michael handed me my rifle back and hugged me. "Thank you."

I put my hands on his shoulders, but I didn't move away. "You can't stay here. The NCR will be after you."

"I know."

"Here." I reached into my bag and gave him a bag of caps. "There should be enough for you go get a place here and enough to help you leave."

He stared at the caps in disbelief. "You're giving this all to me? Won't you need it?"

I shrugged. "I'll just leech off of my cousin."

Michael was silent for a long time, then he pocketed the caps.

"Will I see you around here?"

I looked back at my apartment. "Yeah, we're not leaving for a while."

He smiled. "Well if I don't get killed by NCR assassins, we should hang out sometime."

"I'll promise not to jump out of any windows."

He pulled me into another hug. "If you do, you know I'll carry you home."

I patted his back. "Me too...I mean if you jump out of a window. Please don't jump out of a window."

He pulled away. "Get some rest, Stanley."

"I'll try."

**-Celeste-**

Here's a joke for you: two legionaries and a drug dealer walk into a bar.

Hopefully by the end of the night I'll have a punchline.

But yeah, Silus, Livius, and I decided to drop by a nearby bar. I really do try to avoid these places, but it was close by and there wasn't a lot else to do. What the hell.

It was definitely a bar for the downtrodden. Dim lights, slow-tempo music drooling out of a crackling sound system, lots of people wandering around aimlessly with a misty drink in their hand. Basically, my kind of bar.

Everyone inside the foggy dank building was under the influence of something, so I was able to smoke without Livius getting his panties in a twist. He seemed uncomfortable enough already.

"Lighten up, kid." Silus ordered a drink from the bar. Livius looked like he was going to pass out.

"We're not supposed to drink..." His voice barely leaked out of him.

"You don't catch on quick, do you?" The ex-centurion took a sip of his beer and slid another glass towards Livius. "You're a free man. You don't have to worry about those bullshit rules now."

"Stop it." I stared down at my own reflection in my glass. "Don't force him to drink. It's a bitch to stop once you're hooked."

"Fine, but I'm giving you a chance to let loose. Lord knows you need it." He scanned the bar. "You see those two women by the window?" He pointed out two women in patchwork dresses drinking near the front of the bar.

"What about them?"

"Well they've been staring at you ever since we sat down." Silus clapped him on the shoulder. "If you get both of them, I'll make sure you're promoted to decanus."

"Silus, you're drunk."

"You don't even know what a drunk person looks like."

I thought my glass was going to shatter under my clenched fingers, but I remained silent.

Livius stood up. "I'm going home."

"We just got here."

Livius left without bothering to respond.

Silus turned back towards the bar. "What's his problem?"

"He's a legionary. That's one thing."

He rubbed his forehead. "This footsoldier has been travelling with you for how long now?"

"Since October."

"And he's still brainwashed by Caesar's propaganda?"

I shrugged and twirled my finger over the rim of my glass. "Conditioning like this is hard to melt away, trust me. Some habits just don't die off." I stared down into my drink. "I mean, after my brother died I told myself I'd stop drinking. And here I am."

"I see."

"I've been sober for three years." I downed the rest of my glass. "I only relapsed a few weeks ago."

"That's nice."

"I don't like how I get when I'm drunk. I get violent, angry. My brother pleaded me to quit but I was never strong enough. After his passing, I felt like I owed him. But I failed. I just can't stay away."

"Is there a reason you're telling me all this?"

I slammed my glass down on the bar and turned back to him.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were having a moment."

"Why the hell did you think that?"

I sighed and rubbed my scar. "I guess not all legionaries are so easy to talk to."

"Livius is a footsoldier. He is trained to just absorb information without thinking twice about it or objecting." Silus sat back and folded his arms. "But I'm no footsoldier. So if you have a point, get to it."

My stomach was on fire from either the liquor or the rage stewing within me, but I kept my response stoic as possible.

"What I'm saying is that if Livius is going to change, he's going to need a motivation. An influence."

Silus scoffed. "Well he did sabotage a major legion plan for you."

"I suppose." I pushed my glass to the side. "Hopefully something can influence him to change that won't result in his execution."

**-Livius-**

I just sat outside the apartment without entering. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I hated Silus. I hated him. If he just sent our troop out on time, the NCR never would have gotten word of our positioning and I wouldn't be in this mess. Then he gets himself captured and he has the nerve to call me a bad legionary. And then he has the nerve to act like a profligate when he got out. Centurions don't drink! They don't!

I was fuming, but there was no one else I could turn to. Celeste seemed more and more distant the closer we got to the Strip. Or maybe that was just after the monorail incident.

The only thing to look at outside the apartment was the meat stand across the street. Even at night, profligates would come up, drop a few caps on the table, and leave with some pieces of meat on a stick.

All profligates start to look the same after a while, but then I saw someone I recognized. Michael stood in line for the stand, pulling his jacket around his shoulders. I almost didn't notice him since he wasn't in uniform. I liked him better like this. It made it easier to forget that he should be at the target-end of my rifle.

I got up and snuck up behind him. He gasped when I poked at his arm.

"Christ, Stanley. Don't scare me like that." Michael let out a breathy laugh. "Not when I have a bounty on my head."

"I'm sorry." I rubbed the back of my neck. "So are you busy?"

Michael shrugged. "I could always get food tomorrow."

I smiled and looked back at the apartment. "Um, well my apartment has a ladder that does to the roof. The view is probably nice."

He smirked and I felt like an idiot.

"I think that's only for emergencies."

"I've been breaking a lot of rules lately."

"You're a bad influence, Stanley."

"I'm sorry."

…

Even though I didn't like how profligate lands looked, I'll admit that everything looked a lot nicer from the rooftop. All of the gray was faded into blackness and even the intense light from the Strip seemed beautiful at a distance. Also Michael was there. That helped.

"I never saw the city like this before." He sat down next to me. "I like it."

I just nodded, unable to speak. I don't know why but I felt...scared? Nervous? I don't know. The feeling only increased when Michael reached down and grabbed my hand.

"Sorry." He kept his eyes facing out to the city. I don't know if it was the light from the Strip or not, but I could see his face getting more and more red. "I just really like you, Stanley."

Hearing those words caught me off guard.

"Wait, what?"

Michael smiled. "If you really didn't catch on, I need to up my game."

"No, I just..." I rubbed my forehead with my other hand. "I don't think anyone's ever liked me before. I mean maybe my cousin, but not like this and she did try to throw me off a building once."

Michael gave me a weird look. "I think we should get off this roof. You seem to have a poor history with high places."

I shook my head. "Forget about it."

"But you're something else, you know that?" He leaned in closer to me and I didn't bother to back away. "When I met you I just thought you were some cute guy with pretty eyes. Now you're breaking me out of an NCR prison? I mean you're still cute, but now you're kind of a badass. Not many people would do that for me."

My face felt like it was on fire. I kept my gaze down at the concrete floor. "No one's ever called me that before." I closed my eyes and tried to relax my heartbeat. "But are you okay with no longer being an NCR soldier?"

His expression dropped, his grip on my hand tightened. "I don't know. I mean I thought I'd always be a soldier. To have that suddenly taken from me...it's a big change."

I nodded. I thought I was going to choke.

Michael leaned against my shoulder and out of instinct I put my arm around him. I wasn't used to being this close to someone, especially for this long.

"Stanley?"

"Yeah?"

"If the Legion and the NCR go to war again, will you be fighting too?"

My fingers clenched around his upper arm. "I hope so. I'm still a soldier."

I don't know why, but Michael looked really sad when I said that. I reached out and touched the side of his face. That seemed to surprise him, it surprised me too. I couldn't remember the last time I touched someone's face, especially like this.

He moved his head up to look at me, but he didn't say anything. I felt my stomach do a flip when I saw his face getting closer to mine. Even my thoughts were forced into a stunned silence as I did the same. I couldn't remember the last time someone's face was this close to mine. But then, all of the guilt I've been forcing down came crashing back. My hand on his shoulder was shaking. I knew I was going to regret this, but I had no choice. I pulled back before we could make contact.

I turned away from Michael. I couldn't face him. But I could still hear him behind me, trying to stammer out a response.

"I, um..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I thought you were..."

"That's not it, Michael." I could hear the tears leaking back into my voice. No, I wasn't going to cry. "I really like you. I...never kissed anyone before, but I wanted to do this. I just don't want to lie to you anymore."

Michael was quiet for a long time.

"What are you talking about?"

I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath.

"My name isn't Stanley. My name is Livius." I choked on my own tears. "I'm a legionary."

I snuck a peak at Michael's face, but I couldn't stand to look for very long.

"Is this some kind of sick joke? Because it isn't funny."

I shook my head. "No, I'm telling the truth."

"But that means..._you're_ the one who framed me?"

"Please!" I stood up and faced him. Looking into his eyes was the hardest thing I ever had to do. "I had no choice! I needed to plant the documents on somebody and I only knew your combination so-"

"Enough! You ruined my life!" He shoved me away. "What else were you lying to me about? Who is this 'cousin' of yours? One of your slaves?"

"Actually she's a drug dealer." I had a feeling I wasn't going to fix this.

Michael glared at me for a solid minute then turned away.

"Michael, wait!" I chased after him and he stopped. "I know you hate me now. I know you don't want to see me again. But can I please help you get home? It can get dangerous at night."

He scoffed. "You didn't seem to care about me getting hurt when you framed me."

"Michael, please."

He stared down at his feet, then waved for me to follow him.

As we walked through Freeside, Michael made sure I stayed a great deal behind him at all times. I wasn't allowed to talk to him either. This was fine. At least I could make sure he was okay.

We stopped in front of a tiny building near the edge of town. I walked him to the front stairs, but he slammed the door in my face before I could say anything. I felt like a hole was being burned into my chest, but I still had a tiny feeling of hope that I did the right thing. I felt sick, but maybe I had to.

I was starting to lose touch of who I really was.

**-Michael-**

Stanley...Livius...whatever didn't leave my corner until well after he dropped me off. He just paced back and forth in front of my house in a daze. Was this his attempt at making me think he still cared about me? I'm not impressed.

I never felt so much rage for someone I once cared about. He never once cared about me and why should he? He's a legionary. I'm pretty sure those assholes are incapable of human emotion.

I didn't even bother to turn the lights on as I drifted aimlessly through my house. When I approached the kitchen, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that someone was in there with me.

"Hello?" I felt around for something I could use as a weapon. The front door was still in my line of sight, so I could always run for it.

Sitting at the kitchen table was a man in a brown suit and a hat pulled over his eyes. The moonlight from the windows gleamed against a butterfly knife being twisted around in his pale hands.

"Michael Vivas." He spoke quietly, as if he didn't intend for me to hear him. "You have been making my job very difficult."


	13. Chapter 13

**-Celeste-**

Since we had to save up to get into the Strip, we couldn't afford to spend too much money. But I used some of our caps to pay for a therapy session. I felt that my deal with Betsy still held water and I might as well get it over with.

There was a small clinic just outside Freeside. I never seeked out treatment like this before, so I thought it was strange that it took place in a medical clinic. I don't know, I always thought therapy sessions took place in someone's house or something.

The woman I met with was named Dr. Usanagi. She seemed nice enough, but I still felt like I was wasting my time. I learned all sorts of fascinating things about myself. Like, my mind is being consumed by my shooting. And I feel a lot of guilt for relapsing with my alcoholism. Wow, 75 caps well spent.

I know I was being too harsh. I thought this kind of treatment would work a lot faster, like with other injuries. Treatment for physical wounds may not be instantaneous, but if you clean a wound and put a bandage on it, it feels slightly better. After speaking with Usanagi, I felt worse. I spent an hour letting my problems pour out of me and allow them to fester all around the room. I just wanted to be fixed! Maybe just ignoring my problems was the best method of treatment.

I left Usanagi's office with a weight on my shoulders. My feet dragged along the streets of Freeside until I came to our motel. I unlocked the door and saw Livius sitting against the wall staring at his hands. That's where he was when I left.

"Have you not moved all day?" I threw my bag on the floor and looked around. "Where's Silus?"

Livius shrugged.

"Great, now we have an elite legionary just wandering around. No biggie." I looked back at Livius. "You okay, kid?"

Livius was still staring down at the ratty carpet. "Can we talk?"

I sat down next to him without a second thought. "What's up?"

"I don't know." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been feeling...different lately."

I sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I knew this would happen some day. You're fine, this is all normal."

He looked back up at me. "It is?"

"Yeah." I was struggling to hold back my laughter. "Puberty was bound to happen to you eventually."

Livius punched my arm. "I'm being serious!"

"My little Livius is becoming a man!"

I'm twenty-two!" Livius paused. "Celeste?"

"Sorry, sorry." I leaned back against the wall. "What is it?"

He looked back at the ground. "Has it been November 16th yet?"

"Huh?" I rubbed my eyes under my glasses. "Yeah, that was a while ago."

Livius was silent for a while.

"I guess I'm twenty-three then."

"Oh. Well happy late birthday."

"Anyway, the thing I wanted to talk to you about?" He rubbed his temples. "There's this guy I really like. He's nice and all, but I feel confused."

Oh I was so not cut out for dealing with these kinds of problems. "What? You like a nice guy. What's there to be confused about?"

"I don't know. This is all new to me." He kept fiddling around with his fingers. "I don't usually like guys in this way, you know?"

"Is this something the legion would disapprove of? I've heard contrasting rumors."

Livius sighed. "It's...complicated. Soldiers are forbidden from being in relationships. But since there aren't many girls around, our superiors are extra harsh on guys being together." He laughed a bit. "Being able to see different types of girls has been one of my favorite parts about going to profligate places."

"So where's the confusion coming from? You can like both."

Livius's gaze fell to the floor. "Michael is NCR. Nothing could work out."

I shrugged. "Well as far as he knows, you're on his side. Just keep lying. Not the best foundation for a relationship, but I think it applies here."

Livius's face twitched. Oh no…

"Livius..."

"I'm sorry." He buried his face in his hands. "I couldn't lie to him anymore. I told him everything."

Something flashed before my eyes. My jaw dropped.

"Are you fucking serious? You had one rule to follow, Livius. Don't let people know you're a legionary!"

Livius held his hands up. "You don't understand! He knew me for something I wasn't!"

"And maybe that's why he liked you, Livius!"

Too harsh? Probably. Livius sat back against the wall and brought his knees up to his chest.

"It doesn't matter. He hates me." He brushed his hair behind his ear. "Maybe this was the wakeup call I needed. I'm still a legionary. I'm an idiot to think I could have anything more."

I leaned back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. "You're fine, Livius. I want you to realize you're more than a legionary, because you are."

He hugged his knees. "What's it like?"

"Pardon?"

"To be with someone." He looked back at me. "I know it's something profligates take seriously, so I thought you'd know."

I snorted. "You're asking the wrong person. I've never seen the value in such relationships. It's hard enough holding onto my friends and family."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Huh." His fingers drummed against the floor. "Looks like the legionary is more lovable than the profligate."

I smirked. "If that way of putting it makes you feel any better, I'll take it."

Livius pressed the back of his head against the wall. "I just want to see Michael. I want to make sure he's okay. I haven't seen him around town lately."

"Sounds to me like he doesn't want to see you again."

"Please?" He looked over at me. "Can you help?"

I looked down at my hands and sighed. "Alright."

…

Fortunately Michael's house wasn't so far away. We got to the front steps and Livius knocked on the door.

"Michael?" He knocked on the door again. "It's me. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

No response. I reached out and jiggled the doorknob.

"It's unlocked."

Livius looked back at me. "Does that mean we can go inside?"

"Legally, no. But-"

Livius opened the door and went inside anyway. Apparently this boy doesn't get the concept of "I don't want to see you again." I sighed and trailed after him.

The inside of Michael's tiny house was eerily quiet. The lights were all flicked off, the chairs all pushed in, it looked like he just stepped out of the house for a moment.

But you ever have that gut instinct that something is wrong? I don't even believe in supernatural shit like that, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something I was missing here.

While Livius continued to wander through the kitchen, I decided to investigate the bathroom.

"Oh my god."

In the bathtub on the far side of the room, there was a young man with curly brown hair. His arm was draped over the edge of the tub and a bloodied butterfly knife was on the floor directly below his fingers. I stepped closer. The scent of blood became more intense and I noticed the deep cuts on his throat and wrists. His other hand was draped over his chest. Underneath that was a piece of folded up paper, oddly clean in this gruesome scene.

I held my breath and pried the note out from under his fingers. I unfolded it. Written across the paper in large scratchy handwriting was _"I am done being lied to."_

Footsteps were coming closer to me and I stuffed the note back into my pocket. Livius stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and his body trembling.

"Livius, I'm-"

He brushed past me and knelt down next to the tub. His gripped the edge of the tub. When he reached out to hold his bloody hand, I pulled him away.

"You don't know how long he's been in there."

"We can't just leave him here!" His voice cracked and his body was still shaking. "He needs a burial!"

I felt my jaw twitch. "We can notify the NCR..."

Livius wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. "The NCR is after him. We can't do that."

I sighed and looked down at the floor. Then I saw something that caught my eye. The tile floor beneath our feet had slight traces of faded red. I looked back over at the bathtub.

"Let's just go home, Livius. You need rest."

Livius hugged his arms and followed me out of the bathroom. I looked back over my shoulder at the stained tile floor. Once again, that feeling inside me was saying something was wrong. I ignored it. At that moment, Livius was my priority. I could figure out the details later.

…

Livius spent the rest of the evening curled up on the floor. I tried talking to him a few times, but all of his walls were up. I knelt down beside him and noticed he was staring at a crumpled up piece of paper.

"What's that?"

Livius clutched the paper to his chest. It took a great deal of heavy breathing before he could work out a response. "It's a note he wrote to me back in camp."

"Oh." I looked down at my hands. "Want me to read it to you."

He shook his head. "I want to read it myself when I become good enough."

I could see what was written on the note, but only for a brief second. It was just some small handwriting with two checkboxes underneath. I thought back to the note in my pocket. It occurred to me how different the two handwriting sets were. It was probably nothing. I would have to see the other note to make sure, but Livius had an iron grip on it.

The door creaked open and Silus stepped inside.

"Where the fuck were you?" I got up from my spot on the floor.

Silus tossed a bag of caps to the side. "You're not my superior. But if you must know, I was busy working, unlike you two." He looked down at Livius. "What's his problem?"

"Now really isn't a good time."

Silus scoffed. "You can't not put a recruit to work. Their minds can't handle not receiving orders."

Livius shot up to his feet. "You can't talk about me like that!"

Silus leaned back against the wall. "Last time I checked, yes I can. Because you're a footsoldier and I'm your commanding officer. I can say whatever I want."

"You stopped being my commanding officer when you let yourself get captured!"

Oh not this again. I turned down my hearing aids and opened a magazine to avoid getting stuck in the middle of this legion dick measuring contest.

In the middle of the argument, Livius shoved his way past Silus and went outside. The apartment went back to its original quiet state, then I realized Silus was trying to talk to me.

"Huh?" I turned my hearing aid back up.

He sighed. "I guess you expect me to go after him?"

"I didn't say anything."

I went back to my magazine and I heard the door shut as Silus left as well.

**-Livius-**

Profligate air is hard enough to breathe in. I felt I was choking as I ran down the street. My eyes were stinging and my face felt wet with tears. I killed Michael. I know really I didn't, but I kind of did. I got to a point where I couldn't bring myself to walk anymore. I sat down on the sidewalk and hugged my knees.

Footsteps were coming closer to me and I realized I didn't have a weapon. I didn't care. I looked up and saw Silus standing in front of me. I would have preferred bandits.

"Do it." My voice came out quiet. "Make fun of me."

Silus sighed and sat down next to me.

"You're frustrating."

"I thought you could do better than that."

"That's not what I meant." He rubbed his forehead. "You aren't like other footsoldiers, but you keep treating yourself like you are."

"I am a footsoldier."

"No, you're not." Silus's voice became more stern. "Legion footsoldiers aren't brought up to make decisions for themselves. But you are becoming your own person now. It's like you're becoming a human being."

I stared down at my hands. "I'm still loyal to Caesar. I have to be."

Silus rubbed his brow. "Why?"

I was shocked. Was a legion commander really asking me this?

"Caesar is not who you think he is." He pushed his black hair behind his ear. "There's something wrong with him. He's been reclusive, often keeping to himself for days without giving orders."

"I don't want to judge the actions of Caesar."

"You know that if we attacked Primm on the day I suggested, we wouldn't be in this mess?" He stared back at me. "But instead, Caesar made me wait three days; just enough time for the NCR to find out. Just because he was complaining about 'headaches'. Does this sound like the behavior of a good leader to you?"

I didn't feel like arguing, so I just shook my head.

"You're holding yourself back by continuing to swear by him. You survived for this long without the legion. Why do you want to go back?"

It took a while for me to get my voice to work.

"Because serving the legion is my purpose."

"And how do you know that?"

I felt like I was punched in the stomach and I glanced over to the side.

"It just is."

"Your friend doesn't agree."

I looked back up at him. "Celeste is a profligate. She doesn't understand."

Silus shrugged. "I just can't imagine why you'd want to go back to being a footsoldier after this. You think for yourself, you've been able to survive in profligate lands for this long, you sound more like a frumentarius to me."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"But I'm not smart enough to be a frumentarius."

He scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, the legion isn't really made up of rocket scientists." He stood up and helped me to my feet. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Just when we were going to turn out of the alley, we were blocked by a young man in tattered clothing. He had a gun pointed at us, but his legs were shaking like he didn't know what he was doing.

My body went cold, but I began looking around for a weapon. There was a lead pipe propped up against the alley wall. If I could just…

"Come on!" The young man's voice creaked as he spoke. "Your money or your lives!"

Silus just turned in the other direction. "I don't have time for this."

I followed him and I heard him screaming behind us.

Before I had time to react, Silus pushed me to the side. My shoulder slammed against the wall. A gunshot sound filled the air and Silus fell to the ground. I struggled to get to my feet and I looked back at the man who had a look of disbelief on his face.

"You killed him." I wrapped my hand around the lead pipe. "You killed him!"

The man's fingers struggled to get hold of the gun again, so he just started running. I was just about to chase after him when I heard a groan of pain behind me.

"Sir?" I dropped the pipe and raced over to him. His back was bleeding and his skin was pale, but he was still alive. I didn't even have time to give a sigh of relief. I looped my arm around his waist (careful to avoid the wound) and dragged him out of the alley.

"Doctor!" I screamed as loud as I could. "I need a doctor!"

**-Celeste-**

Sitting in the fort with Livius was an awkward experience. The Old Mormon Fort was occupied by the Followers of the Apocalypse, a group dedicated to being the least dickish in the Mojave. It was the closest source of healthcare in Freeside and it didn't surprise me that they were quite busy.

"Is he going to be okay?" Livius looked over at me. "You were shot and you're okay now."

_Okay _is stretching it a bit.

"I can't say for certain."

Livius went back to looking at his feet. A doctor stepped out of one of the tents and made her way over to us.

"I'm sorry for the wait." Her hair was styled into a spiky mohawk, but her voice was very soft and comforting. "Your friend needs surgery. One of our surgeons will be able to work on him in a few minutes."

"Is he going to be okay?" Livius blurted out again.

She gave a slight smile. "If all goes well, yes."

When we were alone again, Livius slumped in his seat.

"I don't like this place. Everyone is so vague."

**-Silus-**

I woke up with a killer headache and an intense pain branching in my back. I've woken up with worse. My eyes adjusted and it was clear I was in a white tent. The interior was lined with medical equipment. When I tried to rub my forehead, I realized my wrists and ankles were restrained.

"What the-" I kept tugging at the leather straps securing me to what appeared to be an operating table.

"Good, you're up." A doctor with his back turned towards me was examining a syringe in the light. "You'll need to be for this."

Before I could respond, the doctor turned around and took his mask off.

"Vulpes Inculta..."

He tightened the straps on my wrist. "Lord Caesar finds your lack of loyalty troubling."

"The legion really does have eyes everywhere." I kept pushing against the restrains. "What are you doing?"

"It is my job to eradicate any threat facing the legion." He began attaching an oxygen mask to some sort of metal cannister. "You are considered a threat."

"What?" I tugged harder against the restraints. "You can't do this to me! I'm a centurion! Caesar's secrets are safe with me!"

Vulpes Inculta shushed me and held the oxygen mask just inches above my face.

"You know the rules, you know the consequences." His voice dropped to a low whisper. "And it appears that this tiny establishment doesn't have any proper anesthesia."

I struggled to move my face away from him, but the oxygen mask came down.

"Start counting backwards from ten."


	14. Chapter 14

**-Celeste-**

I kept my eyes plastered on the surgery tent the entire time. It didn't feel right. No one else came in or out. No nurses, no assistants, no anesthesiologist. I suppose that the Followers of the Apocalypse had limited resources and people here in Freeside. At least they were better off than my brother and me when we opened our clinic. That was just the two of us in a tiny metal shack.

Livius only got up a few times to get water. Other than that, he was completely still and silent. I wanted to ask him about Silus, but I figured I better not.

The surgeon stepped out of the tent a lot sooner than I expected. He spoke with Julie Farkas, the pointy-haired woman from earlier, but they were so far away I couldn't hear them. Her expression said enough. She looked over at us. Livius perked up in his seat. Back when I had my clinic, I remember having to initiate this conversation many times. Theodore would always make me tell them for him. I never thought I'd have to be on the receiving end.

She walked over and knelt down in front of us.

"I am so sorry." Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "We couldn't save your friend."

I saw Livius's eyes widen, his skin grew pale. He hunched over in his seat and tangled his fingers through his hair.

"I should have brought him here sooner."

"Dear, dear. No." She placed a hand over his and he jolted. "You did everything you had to. There was nothing else you could-"

I shook my head and she stopped.

"My apologies. I'll give you two time to grieve."

It still didn't feel right. Even if the surgery wasn't a success, it was still a lot quicker than it should have been. I frowned and looked over at Livius.

"I'm going to get some sodas. You want anything?"

He shrugged, still staring down blankly at the floor. I stood up and made my way around the perimeter of the fort so I could slip into the tent.

I gripped the thick beige cloth and pulled it over my head. The inside of the tent was oddly well-light and lined with medical equipment. I knelt down next to the surgery table to examine the anesthesia used. Nothing. Anything that could have been used to knock him out during the surgery was stored away.

Silus's body was covered with a white cloth. I took a deep breath and pulled it up. The bullet hit him in the side and it didn't look like it made any contact with bones or vitals. Silus was a healthy man in relatively good shape. It didn't make sense that this would kill him.

I pressed my palms against the edge of the table and leaned in closer. No surgery scars. It looked like the bullet was still imbedded in his flesh. At first I was going to assume that the surgeon sucked that much, but then I noticed his arms. Just above his black legion tattoos were bruises, as if he was restrained. Upon taking a closer took, I saw more imprints around his nose and mouth in the shape of an oxygen mask. He was forced to breathe something in, just not anesthesia.

"What are you doing?"

I spun around to be face-to-face with the surgeon. His pale face was covered with a white surgical mask, but I could hear him loud and clear.

I gripped the edge of the table. "That's my line."

The surgeon crossed his arms. "What do you mean?"

I stepped to the side to show him the body. "I've been sitting outside for twenty minutes, but it doesn't look like you got that far with the surgery."

He moved away to the other side of the tent. "I understand you're upset about your friend. But I did everything-"

"-And these bruises weren't here before! What do you have to say about that?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I think you'd better leave."

I stood up straighter. "I will. And I'll come back with your supervisor."

"You do that."

I stormed out of the tent and made my way to Livius and Julie.

Livius tilted his head to the side. "You didn't get the soda?"

I grabbed his upper arm. "You need to see this."

Julie trailed closely behind us. "Is everything okay?"

"You'll see."

I lead them both into the tent. Silus's body was covered again. The surgeon was still sitting in the far corner, his hands folded carefully in his lap.

"Oh, so you did come back."

"Can it." I marched over to the body and gripped the sheet. "You have some explaining to do."

I flung the sheet up. My stomach twisted into a knot. Along the side of his body was a deep surgical scar. That was definitely not there before, but how could someone replicate it that quickly? The bullet appeared to have been removed too.

Julie and Livius were staring at me hard. I fumbled around for a response.

"Okay, well what about the bruises?"

"I had to carry him here." Livius's voice was quiet. "It's probably from that."

I stared at him in disbelief. Julie covered the body again.

"I understand you're upset. But we did everything we could."

"But-"

"Celeste." Livius's voice caught me off guard. "Surgeries fail sometimes. It's okay."

I wasn't used to hearing Livius defend medical procedures like this. I locked eyes with the surgeon again. It felt like his glare was stabbing me in the face.

Without breaking eye contact, I nodded and left the tent.

**-Livius-**

I know Celeste was just trying to make me feel better, but I wished that she found a different way to do it.

We went back home and Celeste wouldn't stop talking about it. She said that she knew Silus's death was set up. I didn't want to hear it.

"...and the anesthesia!" She continued to pace around the room. "Why would you start a surgery and not have the anesthesia?"

I curled up on the couch and brought my knees up to my chest.

"Not to mention the bruises! I know those definitely weren't there before. If I-"

"Celeste." My voice came out more shaky than I wanted to. "Stop."

She did, her face softened as well.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"We need food." I got up from the couch and made my way to the door. "I'll just go to one of the stands."

"Livius, are you sure you want to be out right now?"

I tightened my jacket around my body. I felt like I swallowed a fistfull of sand.

"It's daytime. No one's going to attack me." I grabbed my machete just in case.

Celeste reached for her own coat, but I stopped her.

"No, stay here." I opened the door. "You'll be safer."

"Livius, I can handle myself."

My hand tightened around the doorknob.

"An elite legion commander was defeated by a kid who barely knew how to use a handgun. I can't risk it."

I closed the door before she could respond.

I just needed to walk. Walking helped keep my feelings in check. I refused to cry. I wasn't going to cry over my centurion. Somehow that felt disrespectful. A recruit outliving his commander. It seemed stupid. I remembered that he pushed me out of the way. That confused me. I wasn't the one with value. I still don't know why people expect me to be more than I am.

There was a small line in front of one of the stands, but I didn't mind waiting. Just when it was my turn to buy something, I noticed something through the corner of my eye.

A young man in patchwork clothing digging through a trashcan.

The man who shot Silus.

My mind blanked. Something flashed before my eyes and I abandoned my place in line to chase after him. He recognized me at once and he ran. I was faster. I unsheathed my machete. I would kill him in front of the entire population of Freeside, I didn't care.

I chased him through the streets. I didn't care where I was going or what I was bumping into. We reached a dead end. He shuffled in place, I could see his mind racing from where I was. He turned around in defeat and fell to his knees. I didn't stop. I raced closer to him, my blade ready to strike.

"Please, I'm sorry!" His voice was wobbly and small. "I didn't know what I was doing!"

The machete was shaking in my hands, but I held it closer.

"Here's a lesson for you then." I pressed the edge of the blade to his throat. "Don't kill unless you're prepared to get killed yourself."

"I didn't-"

I pressed harder.

"I don't tolerate cowards. And I really don't tolerate cowards who expect me to spare their degenerate lives after they killed my friend."

He didn't speak. It was all up to me. My eyes locked on his. They were large and terrified, staring up at me like he was an injured animal. My machete trembled. He flinched when the blade scraped against his skin.

I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and put the weapon away. When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me in disbelief. Honestly, I felt the same way.

I stood up and sheathed my machete. "You aren't worth my time. But if I see you again, I may not be as nice."

He scurried away without a second thought. I just stood there in that alley for a solid minute, then I slammed my head against the wall.

"I am so stupid."

...

I came home without any food. I failed my duties. Not ideal legionary behavior.

It wasn't like I cared. I sank to the ground the second I closed the door. Celeste looked over at me from the kitchen.

"You're back."

My head fell to the side. "Everyone I care about dies."

Celeste walked over and sat down next to me.

I wiped my eyes. Oh great, I was crying. This isn't what I wanted at all.

"My squad, Michael, Silus. You're all I have left. I don't want you to die too."

"Well it seems like I'm trying awfully hard to with this mission." She patted my shoulder. "But I'm not going anywhere."

I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my face against my knees.

"We can't continue this operation!" My face was completely wet and gross. "It's consuming you and I don't like it. You could get shot in the head again and maybe you won't survive this time! I know I won't be able to go home again. I just don't want you to die!"

Celeste was silent for a long time. I was scared to look up at her. Then I felt her hand on my back. I froze up completely.

She yanked her hand back. "I'm sorry..."

I lifted my head up. "It's okay. You've seen them, right?"

"What?"

My voice failed me for a moment. "My scars."

She looked down at the floor, then nodded.

"It's okay." I picked at my fingernail. "It's a part of me. I've hidden from them for too long."

"Is it alright if I ask about them?"

I felt my stomach twist into a knot, but I nodded.

"Whenever I did something wrong in the legion..." My voice trembled and my hands clenched into fists. "I would be tied down and whipped. Sometimes in front of my entire squad." I wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist. "Each scar is a symbol for how I let Caesar down. I can never escape my failures."

Celeste stared at me in shock. "Sounds like the legion has a purely punishment system going for them."

"Huh?"

"I mean," She ran her fingers through her choppy hair. "Do they ever do anything to reward you?"

I thought about it for a long time.

"They let me live."

Celeste frowned. "That's kind of morbid."

"No, that's not what I meant." I wiped my nose and stared up at the ceiling. "They gave me a shelter, food, water, friends. They gave me a community, a home. They gave me a sense of loyalty I haven't seen in profligate territories." I leaned back against the wall. "Though you're not of the legion, I will use that loyalty to make sure you are safe. If anyone ever tries to hurt you, I will destroy them."

Celeste looked stunned, then she broke into a smile.

"No one ever said that to me before."

I smiled too, but mine was a lot more weak.

"You're my squad."

She laughed and pulled me into a hug. It was stiff and awkward and my face was still wet with tears and snot, but I didn't care.

"I'll need that attitude when we kick Benny's ass."

I looked up at her.

"We're still doing that?"

"I didn't drag you halfway across the Mojave to give up now."

I smiled against her shoulder. I probably would have tracked Benny down myself if she didn't want to. But my years in the legion taught me that going off to kill people in teams is a lot more fun than going alone.

The legion has a lot of valuable lessons to offer.


	15. Chapter 15

**-Celeste-**

Being in Freeside was probably the second most frustrating part of this little adventure. The first most frustrating part was trying to teach Livius that stimpaks aren't eaten like healing powder.

The Strip was right there. I could see it just over the gate. Neon lights burning up the entire night sky, swing and jazz music blasting from the casinos. Somewhere, Benny was inside, with his stupid checkered coat and his stupid brains not punched out of his stupid skull. But there was nothing I could do about that. The gate to the Strip was guarded by these 8-feet-tall robots who didn't take "revenge" as an excuse to let two wastelanders waddle through.

Livius and I tried to think of ways to get around (or over) this. His first plan was to just kill the robots. Obviously that was out of the question. I doubted the Strip would be like "Oh you killed our securitrons. Welcome to Vegas!". But my plan was to just toss Livius over the gate like a sack of laundry, so I wasn't any more helpful.

There were only two realistic ways to get to the Strip. One was to show passports (which neither of us had), or to submit to a credit check of 2,000 caps (which we definitely didn't have).

With nothing else to do and being over a thousand caps shy of our initial goal, we mostly did small jobs around Freeside in an attempt to raise more money.

Livius counted our caps on the floor over and over, as if some more would magically appear if he kept counting.

"We wasted too much time." He wiped his brow. "We'd have at least thirty more caps if you didn't stay with that robot."

I flipped over on my back. "Hey, the Atomic Wrangler needed a sex robot and you weren't willing to test it out so-"

"Forget it."

"I'm just saying, what if it malfunctioned and ripped a customer's arm off or something?"

"I said forget it." Livius pushed the caps back into a bag. "Why can't we just get the passports?"

I leaned back against the wall and sighed. "Because we're not citizens, Livius. You're from Arizona, I'm from the Commonwealth."

Livius shrugged. "We can get fake ones. Like what we did with the NCR uniforms."

My hands clenched into fists. "I can't keep going back to Stanley for favors."

He tilted his head to the side. "Why not?"

I rubbed my forehead. "Blackmail. Let's just leave it at that."

Livius fell silent, then went back to counting the caps again. I continued to pace around the room with my fists firmly in my pockets. I looked back over at Livius who was now counting by twos.

"Livius?"

He looked up at me. "Yeah?"

I rocked back and forth on my heels. "Are you okay?"

He stopped counting. "Why are you asking?"

I shrugged. "You've...been through a lot lately. I want to make sure you're doing okay."

Livius sighed and set down the caps. "I haven't been through a lot. The people around me have. I just stood by and watched."

"That doesn't mean you haven't been affected either."

"Celeste, please." He rubbed his eyes. "I've been getting too emotional lately. I've been losing focus. I just want to help you. You've been through way more than me."

I wanted to argue, but he was using his "stubborn legionary" tone so I dropped any response I was brewing and went back to pacing. In the midst of Livius's counting and my footsteps, I saw a small piece of black paper slip under the door. I stopped for a moment then stepped carefully to the object.

The paper was stiff and oddly smooth. A business card, but there was nothing on it. I frowned and opened the door. Nothing. The streets of Freeside were empty. There was no indication that anyone was even outside. I checked the front entrance again to make sure no explosives were planted, then I stepped back inside.

Livius looked back up at me. "What's that?"

"I don't know yet." I held the card up to the light and I saw something flicker on the shiny surface. A white 38.

I continued to move the card around and the image became more clear. A red and black roulette table. The inside of a lush prewar casino. The outline of the Lucky 38. The words "you're invited" printed across the top.

"Impossible." I moved the card away from the light and the images faded. "This is from the Lucky 38 casino."

Livius furrowed his brows. "How is that impossible? There are lots of casinos here."

I pulled back the curtains and the light from the Strip poured in.

"You see that huge tower there?"

Livius scoffed. "It's hard not to. You can't be anywhere in the Mojave without seeing that."

"Well that's the Lucky 38. It's owned by Mr. House, who controls Vegas. Even though he runs the place, no one has ever seen Mr. House. And no one has stepped in the Lucky 38 in years."

Livius stared at me for a while.

"Profligate scary stories are weak."

"Livius, I'm being serious."

"I mean it's creepy, but it's no Burned Man."

I sighed and looked back down at the card. "If this invitation is real, we'll be the first ones to ever enter that casino in eons."

Livius looked back down at the caps then up at me. "What does this mean?"

"It means the master of New Vegas wants to speak with us." I tucked the card into my pocket. "We shouldn't keep him waiting."

…

The next morning, we packed our things and headed to the Strip gate. As always, the blue securitrons were lined up on all sides, weapons pointed and ready to destroy any trespassers.

Livius leaned over to me and whispered "After the Atomic Wrangler, are you sure I should leave you alone with robots?"

"You're not going to let me live that down, are you?"

One of the securitrons rolled over to us, his screen just a few inches from our faces. Securitron faces are screens with pictures of cartoon police officers, which would be funny if it wasn't so terrifying.

"Submit to a credit check or have passport ready." His automated voice boomed. "Let it also be known that throwing people over the gate is hereby forbidden."

I ignored Livius's "I told you so's" and fished the card out of my pocket.

"I think I'm supposed to be here."

Something clicked inside the machine.

"Thank you, miss. You may proceed."

I was surprised that it actually worked. I grabbed Livius's arm and pulled him closer to me.

"He's coming too. Don't kill him."

I kept Livius at close proximity as we made our way to the gate. Livius was making little squeaky noises whenever we passed one of the angry-looking robots. Of course later he would tell me that they were not squeaks but really manly grunts.

The gate creaked open and I had to shield my eyes. From a distance the Strip was always the brightest thing in the wasteland, but being inside it was a different story. The stars were almost nonexistent from the neon lights glimmering from the casinos. Loud music continued to pump in from the open doors. It was like the bombs never came. The Strip was a giant party that refused to end.

It also became apparent how out of place Livius and I were. We were disgusting. Our skin was covered in multiple layers of sand and dirt. Our clothes were stained with sweat and blood. The well-dressed people of the Strip kept staring at us, obviously knowing that we did not belong there.

There was one casino that didn't match the others. No music. No bright lights. The door bolted shut. Yep, that was our destination.

We stepped closer to the Lucky 38 and another securitron came rolling towards us. I froze in place and Livius followed.

"Just stay calm." I whispered to him, but also to myself. "Remember: we're supposed to be here."

The securitron got closer and I saw that this one was different. Instead of the angry cartoon police officers for a face, this one had a cartoon drawing of a cowboy smoking a cigarette.

"Well howdy there, pardner." His voice somehow projected over the noise of the Strip. "Might I say you're looking fit as a fiddle?"

Livius tugged at my arm. "What is this thing?"

I expected him to get vaporized on the spot, but instead the cowboy robot chuckled.

"Name's Victor. I'm a securitron, RobCo security model 2060-B."

"Victor..." I tossed the name around in my head. "Are you the one who dug me up back in Goodsprings?"

"It's nice to see someone recognizes old Vic." His robotic arm made a gesture that resembled tipping a hat. "I'd love to stay and chat, pardner, but the boss is waiting for you upstairs."

"The...boss?"

Victor turned his box-like body to the side, giving us a clear view of the Lucky 38.

"Oh right. The boss."

The securitron rolled back to the casino and the heavy metal doors slowly began to creak open. Livius and I exchanged a look before following him.

Back home, the Enclave spent a lot of time trying to resurrect old pieces of prewar life. Even though I was just a scientist, I had a hand in this as well (any east coast people can thank me for the reintroduction of canned cheese). But none of their discoveries even touched the Lucky 38. Everything was a deep, rich red. The roulette tables and slot machines gleamed in the light. The bar was fully stocked. The only inhabitants appeared to be securitrons rolling around. I could get behind this.

Victor lead us to the elevator, but he stopped us before we could get on.

"Hold your horses, miss. The boss wanted to speak to you alone."

"It's alright, he's with me."

"I don't make the rules, little lady."

I sighed and looked back at Livius. "Wait in the casino."

"But I..."

I gave him a look and he fell silent. He sat down on one of the chairs next to a securitron and I entered the elevator.

Victor took me to the penthouse, which was somehow even more pristine than the casino floor. The floors were a shiny white marble and the walls were decorated with old world paintings and bright green plants. I walked down a winding staircase and stood in front of a giant computer. Only one image was projected on the screen: a glowing green image of a man in a prewar suit with nearly combed black hair, a trimmed moustache, and a cocked eyebrow like he was skeptical about everything I was going to say. Mr. House.

"Normally you wouldn't be my first pick for this job, but Benny shot what he was aiming for." His voice came leaking out through the speakers. "My apologies for getting you tangled in this little mishap."

Something flashed before my eyes.

"Little mishap?!" I didn't even care I was speaking to the leader of New Vegas. "This wasn't a little mishap, I was fucking shot in the head! I had reoccurring nightmares for months! I couldn't walk for three weeks! I freeze up when people point things at my face or when they stand over me! Does this sound like a 'little mishap' to you?!"

It took a while for House to respond.

"If you're done whining, I would like to get back to work."

I calmed my breathing and crossed my arms. "You called me here, buddy."

"Indeed I did." His portrait flickered on the screen. "Tell me, what do you know about the platinum chip?"

"I know it's a piece of plastic I lost parts of my brains over."

"That 'piece of plastic' will decide the future of this city." His tone strained, but he managed to stay composed. "It took years and multiple couriers to bring the chip to me, but there was a mistake."

"A mistake that got me shot in the head."

"Are you always this infuriating?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes more."

"Apparently one of the couriers dropped the Chip off at your poor excuse of a clinic. And then you got your hands on it."

"And then I got shot in the head."

"Yes, yes!" His volume increased over the speakers. "You were shot in the head! Should I order my securitrons to give you a cookie?"

"No, but some hush money would be nice."

"If you continue to support Vegas, you will have enough caps to buy yourself another head for all I care."

I crossed my arms. "What do I have to do?"

"You were already making the first step. Benny has the platinum chip. I need you to go to the Tops casino and get it."

"Do I get to kill him or not?"

"You can do whatever you want with him."

I glanced around the room. "So kill Benny, get the chip, then come back to you?"

"You catch on quickly."

"I would probably catch on quicker if I wasn't shot in the head."

"Oh shut up."

"2,000 caps and I will."

...

At least House was generous enough to let Livius and me stay in the presidential suite. After twenty nine years of living in blown up buildings or abandoned shacks, I thought I was going to have a heart attack after stepping into this place. There were three bedrooms, a recreational room, and a huge bathroom complete with four bathtubs separated by curtains. Why would anyone need four bathrooms? No idea. The carpets were clean. The walls weren't peeling. It didn't smell like a rotting butthole. It was heaven.

The first thing Livius and I did was try to wash all of the dirt, blood, and sweat off. The water in the tub was clean! At least until I got in it.

"I'm going to use up the entirety of Nevada's water supply before I get all of this crap washed off of me."

I could hear Livius splashing around from behind the curtain.

"It's like being back in the river. I like it."

I toweled off and changed into one of the brown suits the Lucky 38 provided me. I had no idea how or why they had one in my size, but I looked dapper as fuck so I didn't care.

Stepping out onto the balcony, I wrapped my hands around the rail and stared out over the Strip. From above, the city almost seemed peaceful. The lights seemed to blend in with the stars instead of fighting against them. The energetic music was just a faint murmur below.

Livius joined me on the balcony, his hands struggling to tie a necktie around his neck.

"Here, let me help you." I reached out and grabbed the tie. It then occurred to me that while my father taught me everything he knew about radiation, he never taught me how to tie a tie. I let go of the smooth fabric. "Nevermind. Ties are a symbol of oppression anyway."

Livius slid the tie off his neck and joined me next to the balcony.

"So where are we going?" He squinted his eyes against the bright lights.

I pointed to the Tops Casino, just on the other side of the Strip.

"Benny's in there."

Livius backed away from the railing.

"I'll go get my machete."

...

The closer we got to the Tops Casino, the slower my footsteps became. When we stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the establishment, Livius practically had to drag me to the front doors.

"You'll be fine." He tried to reassure me. "Remember: you have a legionary on your side."

I took a deep breath and nodded. Conjuring up all of my will power, I forced myself to push the doors open.

We entered a large room decorated with red and gold. Jazz music continued to blast over the speakers above us. Behind the front desk, I could see the main area of the casino.

"Hey, welcome to the Tops." A man standing behind the front desk in a gray suit greeted us. "Before we allow you to go any further, we're going to have to check you for weapons."

Livius and I both tensed up. Both of us were heavily armed and none of our weapons could be hidden easily. Unless I could somehow stuff a grenade launcher down my pants without security noticing.

We had no choice but to hand our weapons over, leaving us completely powerless. Livius continued to try to be supportive as he dragged me through the casino.

"This is fine!" He pulled me past a section of slot machines. "My centurion always said that the true strength of a warrior is judged by his will, not his weapon. Although he wasn't able to break out of prison until I got him a weapon..."

I tuned Livius out completely when I saw someone standing near the far corner of the casino. A man in a checkered coat surrounded by men in gray suits and glasses. I found him. I thought I was going to puke right there.

Livius stopped. "Is that..."

I turned around on my heels. "I can't do this."

He grabbed my upper arms. "We spent months walking halfway across the Mojave and I've seen how much this man ruined your life. I'm not letting you leave without destroying him."

"But our weapons-"

"Then throw him out of the tower or something. But I'm not letting you leave now."

I stared back at him. His expression had the same intensity as it did in battle. My throat felt like it was tying itself into a series of knots, but I managed to regain control of my breathing.

"You're right. Let's do this."

I turned back around towards Benny. The second he locked eyes with me, I saw a spark of fear flash across his features.

"What in the goddamn..." He took a step back and the suited men began to close in around us. "Let's keep this in the groove, baby-"

"Don't 'baby' me!" I squared up with him. "No one shoots me in the head and gets away with it!"

Not the best confrontation line in history, but I saw Livius give me a thumbs up through the corner of my eye.

His bodyguards looked like they were preparing to attack, but Benny waved them away.

"Listen, babydoll. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but sometime's a cat's gotta swing, ya dig?"

"I have no idea what you just said, but I'm gonna kick your ass for what you did to me!"

Benny looked around the casino. "Are you trying to start a scene? How about I make it up to you."

Livius stepped in front of me. "We're not playing your game, Checkers."

Benny smirked. "I suggest you keep your boy-toy under control, kitty cat."

We were unarmed, so it wasn't like we had much of a choice.

"I was thinking I treat you to the true Vegas experience." Benny reached into his checkered coat and tossed me a key. "Key to the presidential suite. On behalf of the Tops."

I clutched the key into my fist. "No, we talk first. Why did you shoot me?"

He held his hands up. "I'm trying to avoid a scene, remember? I'll meet you up in a couple of minutes. Clear all of this right up, dig?"

I glared at him, then tucked the key into my pocket.

"You better not be lying to me."

He flashed a gleaming white smile. "I ain't a fink, baby. I'll meet you there in two shakes."

...

Even after the Lucky 38, I still wasn't used to lavish environments. The elevator doors opened up to a huge room with lush carpets, a fully stocked bar, and a couple of pool tables. I was itching to explore the rest of the suite, but I had to keep cool. I searched around for a chair with wheels so I could turn around all dramatic when Benny came to meet with us.

Livius sat at the bar and began picking his way through the fruit bowl.

"You sure he's coming?" He said with his cheeks stuffed full of apple.

"He better. Or I'm going to kick his ass twice as hard."

We waited. And we waited. Nothing. Livius was halfway through the fruit bowl and Benny still didn't show.

He looked over at me skeptically. "You still sure?"

I groaned and flopped against the bar. "This guy..."

A crackling sound filled the air that seemed to be coming from an intercom on the far side of the room. Livius and I hesitantly got up from the bar and made our way over to it.

_"Sorry to flake out on you like this, baby. But this cat's gotta swing."_

Benny. That fucking...fuckhead. I reached out and smashed my thumb against the talk button.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"And what's a cat?" Livius chimed in behind me.

_"You forced my hand, doll. I hate to do this to you twice."_

My thumb trembled against the button. "Stop speaking in nonsense."

I heard Benny chuckle over the intercom.

_"This is the start of something big, baby. Too bad you won't be around to see it."_

The conversation ended before I could respond, but I heard another buzzing sound. Just when I thought I was regaining control over my sanity, I heard House's voice in my ears.

_"That didn't go as planned. I suggest you make a run for it."_

I jumped back and began clawing at my ears. "He hacked my hearing aids. The asshole hacked my hearing aids!"

Livius was staring at the elevator with wide eyes.

"Celeste..."

I moved my hands from my ears. The gears inside the elevator were turning. Someone was coming to visit us.

"We need to go." I backed up towards the back rooms. "Now."

The elevator doors slid open before Livius could speak. A gang of men in gray suits stormed through the room, all armed with silenced pistols. We dove into the bedroom in a cloud of dust and gunsmoke.

"I'm going to kill Benny harder now!" I used my body to barricade the door. "What are we going to do?"

Livius pushed a bookshelf up against the door.

"What can we do?" He began piling more furniture up to join the barricade. "We have no weapons! We're screwed."

Livius and I climbed on top of the barricade to provide extra weight, but I had a feeling it would all be for nothing. I rubbed my scar and sighed.

"It all ends here."

Livius just stared down at his hands, not saying anything.

"I'm guessing I was in way over my head."

He cracked a small smile. "Either way, I liked travelling with you. You helped make me feel worthy again."

I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Bet you didn't think you'd die in a presidential suite in Vegas."

Livius shrugged, his smile fading. "I didn't think I'd be doing a lot of the things I did on this journey."

Our barricade began to shake. My stomach clenched into a knot and I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt Livius grip my hand, it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

The door flew open, our barricade toppled to the ground.

Death never came.

I forced myself to open my eyes. Instead of Benny's gray-suited bodyguards, a pale man in a crisp brown suit and hat stood over us.

"The door swings outward, profligate."


	16. Chapter 16

**-Livius-**

I was stunned.

Standing above us was Vulpes Inculta, the head of the Frumentarii. I jumped up to my feet out of respect. Celeste remained on the ground in typical Celeste fashion.

"Livius, legionary recruit number 746, sir!" I saluted.

Vulpes Inculta just stared at me.

"I'll deal with you later. I'm here for the profligate."

Celeste looked up from the ground.

"Wait…it's you!" She jumped up. "You're that weird dog-head guy from Nipton!"

I looked back between them in shock. Celeste knew Vulpes Inculta? But how?

"You two know each other?"

Celeste scoffed and waved her hand. "Dog Head and I go way back. So many fond memories."

"I instructed you to spread word of the Nipton Lottery. Then you ran away screaming."

"Wait." I looked around the room. "What happened to the men who were chasing us?"

I felt something wet drip onto my shoulder. Blood. I tried to rub it out and looked up. Tangled up in the fancy light thing were the mangled bodies of four men in gray suits. _How…_

I tugged at Celeste's arm. "Celeste, can I speak to you in private?"

Vulpes Inculta raised an eyebrow. "If you have something to say, you can say it in front of me, recruit."

I pulled Celeste back towards the bedroom. "It will only be a few minutes."

We stepped over the barricade and I slammed the door behind us.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Please don't ruin this."

Celeste looked offended. I should have said that better.

"Excuse me?"

I paced around the room.

"Vulpes Inculta is the head of the frumentarii!"

Celeste tilted her head to the side. "Should I know what that means?"

"They're the eyes and ears of the Legion." I sat down on one of the couches. "They were handpicked by Lord Caesar himself to act as infiltration forces. Spies, basically."

She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "So why is one trying to meet with me?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, but this could be a chance for me to get back in the legion's favor. I just need him to like me."

"Livius…"

"What?"

Celeste made that face she does when she wants to argue with me, but she just sighed.

"Nothing. Let's go."

We went back into the main area of the room. Vulpes Inculta was still there, pacing back and forth in front of the intercom.

"You two done?"

I felt my body grow cold. We were not off to a great start.

He stepped over to us and stared at me critically.

"You need to cut your hair."

I touched one of the strands between my fingers. "I'm sorry, sir. I just never had a chance."

Vulpes Inculta held his hand up and I flinched. Celeste looked over at me with wide eyes.

"I don't want to hear your excuses. You being alive is a betrayal to Caesar."

It felt like he punched me in the stomach. I averted my eyes from him and stared down at the ground.

"I'm sorry, sir. I only had the legion's best interest at mind. I'm not a traitor, I promise–"

He clapped his hands together loudly. My mind went blank. I felt my chest tighten. My palms trembled. I could still hear Celeste and Vulpes Inculta talking, but it sounded like they were speaking through a thick glass wall.

"What the fuck was that?"

"If you clap your hands loud enough, it reminds them of being whipped. Sometimes, it's more effective than the actual act."

"That's fucked up!"

"Said the drug dealer."

"You legionaries can't keep pulling the drug dealer card whenever you do something that's actually fucked up!"

"Please…" My voice was quiet, but somehow they both heard me. I tried to regain control of my breathing. "I'll be alright."

"We're wasting time anyway." Vulpes Inculta reached into his pocket and handed something to Celeste. A necklace with a bronze medallion on the end. I felt my breathing quicken. Celeste, really? I never thought…

Celeste stared at the necklace, tracing her finger against the bull carved on it.

"Uh, thanks…?"

"I've been instructed to bestow the Mark of Caesar upon you. The Mighty Caesar admires all that you have accomplished. He requires your presence at his camp at Fortification Hill. All crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven."

Celeste stuffed the Mark of Caesar into her pocket as if it wasn't a huge honor.

"I'll try to stop by."

Vulpes Inculta's jaw twitched and I wanted to jump out of the window. Did she not hear anything I just said?

"Maybe it would interest you that the man you were hunting is making his way to Caesar's camp as we speak."

Celeste stopped and looked up at him.

"Benny's going to Caesar's camp? Why?"

"That isn't important." He took his hat off and placed it on the bar counter. "Also to make sure that you do not take advantage of my lord's generosity, I will be escorting you personally back to camp as soon as possible."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was going home! At least I hoped so. I doubted Celeste would have left me back in Vegas by myself. I still had Vulpes Inculta to worry about. He said I was a traitor. I was a bad legionary. I needed to prove myself to him somehow.

"I appreciate that and all," Celeste rocked back and forth on her heels. "But Livius and I have been working together just fine."

I just wanted to sink into the ground and die. Vulpes Inculta moved in dangerously close to her.

"That was not a suggestion." His voice was cold and deadly. "In order to make sure that your big profligate mouth doesn't tell every NCR trooper in the area about the presence of a high powered legionary on the Strip."

Celeste narrowed her eyes at him.

"So I don't have a choice in this?"

"No."

I couldn't stand being silent anymore.

"Um, sir?"

His eyes snapped over to me and I looked down at the floor.

"We would be honored to leave for camp at once, sir." My voice was all shaky. I didn't sound like a worthy legionary at all. "The profligate means no offence."

Both of them were staring at me. I could feel it. My knees were shaking. My stomach felt like it was going to burn through my skin.

"Whatever the profligate intended" His voice cut through my ears like a rusted machete. "…does not matter."

Celeste huffed. "What, so I'm just 'the profligate' now?"

Vulpes Inculta ignored her, or at least I hoped he did.

"I will be taking the both of you to Fortification Hill to meet with Lord Caesar. But first…" He straightened his tie and sighed. "…there's something else I have to take care of."

**-Celeste-**

I'm working on my list of things I'm fucking sick of. On that list, being referred to as "profligate" in the third person has to be pretty high up there.

And surprising of me to say, but fancy-ass casinos may be a close second.

Mr. Vulva Incinerator dragged us to a casino across from the Tops: the Ultra-Luxe. Now, the Lucky 38 was fancy. The Tops was fancy. But they had nothing on this establishment.

The main room of the casino was constructed out of a blinding white marble. Chandeliers on gold chains with twinkling lights hung from the decorated ceiling. Light violin music drifted through the room over the sounds of clinking glasses and polite conversation.

I did not care for it.

The basic concept of New Vegas was "Apocalypse? What apocalypse? Let's just be rich and get wasted. Woo!" But the Ultra-Luxe was even more removed from reality. The casino was clean, but lifeless. Safe, but enclosing. If cold had a smell, that's what this casino would have smelled like. It reminded me of my mother. She always loved this crap.

The staff wore masks. I don't mean that in a metaphorical sense, I mean they literally wore masks. Along with their crisp tuxedos or evening dresses, they wore emotionless pearl-colored masks with gold details. Do you know how creepy it is to have some faceless guy ask you to give him your weapons? I almost punched that mask into his face.

Oh, we had to hand our weapons over again. Viva New Vegas.

Livius and I were abandoned by the bar while Vulpes paced around the casino. At least the Ultra-Luxe had a way to help combat my alcoholism. Who wants to pay 20 caps for a shot of whisky? That's practically stealing!

"Do you know why he brought us here?" Livius kept his voice down, not wanting to go above the collective volume of the casino.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Just roll with it."

Vulpes walked back over to our seats at the bar.

"Our trip to Fortification Hill is being pushed back."

Livius sat up in his stool. "Is there a problem, sir?"

Vulpes linked his arms behind his back.

"One of my agents went missing in this establishment." His voice barely broke above a whisper. "I cannot afford to have a frumentarius unattended for much longer."

I was about to say something like "wow that sucks for you" but Livius spoke up first.

"Can we help?"

Vulpes stared at him for a while, then he sighed and reached into his coat pocket.

"This is the man you're looking for." He handed Livius a photograph. "The name he used here was Dale Stolz. If anyone asks for more information, don't give it. We can't risk any conflicting stories. And stick to the main area of the casino. I'll be doing a deeper search."

Livius took the photograph like it was worth a million caps.

I leaned back against the bar.

"So, what should I do?"

Vulpes stared at me. He was remarkably less intimidating when he wasn't surrounded by crucifixes. That isn't to say he still wasn't terrifying.

"You're coming with me to make sure you won't run off."

I wanted to argue, but it wasn't like I had anything better to do.

"Fine. I'll try not to get in the way."

…

Spending some quality time with the head of the legion spies didn't sound like a fantastic time to me, but I didn't want him to be around Livius. He was obviously harmful to him and it was my responsibility to limit the time they spent together as much as possible.

We asked nearly every masked weirdo in the casino and the answer was always the same. "Oh goodness me, I am but appalled that you lost your friend. Now if you excuse me, I must go back to being stupidly rich".

"They're hiding something." Vulpes muttered under his breath. "I just know it."

"The masks didn't give that away already?"

Our search lead us to another bar, this one slightly darker and less populated. The same light airy string music continued to float through the room. That is not the kind of music to drink to.

We sat down at the bar. Vulpes drummed his fingers against the table.

"Have you heard the rumors about the White Glove Society?"

I tried to avert my eyes from the liquor bottles behind the bar.

"What about it?"

He darted his eyes around the room before staring back at me.

"The White Glove Society runs the Ultra-Luxe. They're the prime symbol of class and sophistication of the Strip. But there's a darker side to them." He lowered his voice. "Rumor is that the White Glove Society were originally a tribe of cannibals."

I was looking for another reason to dislike this place, but this was overdoing it.

"Are you saying these freaks ate your agent?"

He sighed.

"Most likely, no. But I can't take the risk. We need to find him before–"

A older man with an eye patch walked up to us and Vulpes silenced himself. The man was wearing a brown suit with a bolo tie. On his head he wore a wide-brimmed black hat. He looked like many of the wealthy men I knew back home.

"Pardon me for listening in, but I couldn't help but overhear you lost someone here."

Vulpes narrowed his eyes. "I don't like people eavesdropping on me."

He held his hand up. "My name is Heck Gunderson. I'm asking because my son went missing here as well."

"I don't like this…" I looked over my shoulder at the staff. "We'll look around for your son as well."

"What are you doing?" Vulpes looked back at me. "We don't have time for this."

"If you're right, then these two shouldn't be too far apart from each other. And besides." I stood up. "I think we're going about this search all wrong."

…

I figured that we would make more progress going right to the source. Near the entrance to the restaurant was a man working behind the counter. He was dressed in a fine black tuxedo and he wore a black top hat on his head. I had a feeling that he was the man calling the shots around here.

"My name is Mortimer. How may I be of service?"

"We're here on important business." Vulpes crossed his arms. "About missing people."

His jaw tightened.

"Another reporter, I see. I can assure you that the Ultra-Luxe had nothing to do with her disappearance."

"_Her_?" Vulpes furrowed his brow. "We're looking for two missing men. Gunderson and Stolz."

We had him now. Mortimer's eyes widened and he stammered for a response.

"Good heavens. This has never happened here before."

"Hey, first times for everything." I leaned forward against the bar. "But it would help us a lot if we got some direction around here."

He nodded stiffly and reached under the counter. "We had another reporter staying here. Perhaps he could be of some assistance." A key was placed in front of us. "Normally I shouldn't do this, but I want this case to be put to rest."

Vulpes swiped the key up. "We'll make sure of it."

He bowed his head. "Adieu."

…

"I don't know about this." I leaned against the wall while Vulpes fiddled with the lock. "That guy seemed way too quick to give us the key to somebody's room."

He finally forced the lock open. "I agree, but we have to take what we can get. Keep your guard up."

Not easy to do that when you're completely unarmed.

We stepped into the hotel room and I gasped in horror. The floor was decorated with a leopard print rug. Tacky, I know?

Oh, and there was a dead body lying in a pool of his own blood.

"This is unsettling." Vulpes knelt down next to the body and examined a matchbox that was abandoned near his bashed in face. "Couldn't have been a suicide. It looks like he was beaten with multiple blunt objects."

I looked over my shoulder.

"Did anyone follow us up here?"

He grabbed the matchbox and stood up.

"Either way, we shouldn't linger here too long." Vulpes held the matchbox out to me. _4 pm steam room_ was written in sweeping handwriting along the surface. "We have an appointment to get to."

**-Livius-**

Vulpes Inculta told me not to leave the first room, but I already asked everyone about the missing frumentarius. I even asked some people twice. No one knew where he was and no one wanted to talk to me. There goes my chance of ever being of use to the legion.

I sat down on one of the stools and spun around in circles until the masked people told me to stop. There was nothing else to do. I couldn't drink, I couldn't gamble, I couldn't talk to anyone because they all acted like they were better than me.

But I couldn't sit down for too long. I had to look like I was at least making an effort. I got out of my stool to pace around the casino for a while, but one of the masked men stopped me.

"Pardon me, sir." His voice buzzed against the inside of his mask. "But I couldn't help but overhear that you were looking for someone."

I wasn't used to being called "sir", so at first I didn't know he was talking to me.

"I am." I pulled the photo out of my pocket. "His name is Dale Stolz. Have you seen him?"

The man leaned in to get a closer look at the photo.

"Yes, yes. I remember seeing this man near the kitchen. Shall I help you find him?"

I wasn't supposed to leave the casino, but I wasn't going to pass this up. If I found the missing legionary before Vulpes Inculta did, that would have to put me back in the legion's favor! This was my best option.

So I followed him out of the casino. He lead me into a large room decorated with fancy cloth-covered tables. It smelled like meat, but it wasn't like any kind of meat I've smelled before. It smelled sweeter, smokier. I realized I haven't eaten in so long. But my goal kept me from snatching one of the platters left on the tables.

We got to a metal door behind the bar and the man stopped.

"I'm afraid that only members of the White Glove Society are allowed past this point." He opened the door and began to walk in. "Would you mind waiting here?"

I nodded, figuring that this could be my chance to get some food. The door of the kitchen closed and I just stood there. Even if he couldn't find the agent, at least he tried. At least I tried.

I was forced out of my thoughts when something smacked against the back of my head. I blacked out. This time, I couldn't hear a thing.

**-Celeste-**

It's about the journey, not the destination.

But if your journey involves you being half-naked and sweating your ass off next to a legion spy, I say pick a different destination.

I had to remove my glasses because they were fogging up so much.

"Why is it so hot?" I wiped the sweat off of my brow. I was practically drenched.

Vulpes sat back against the flimsy wooden bench.

"It's a steam room. It's supposed to be relaxing."

I didn't even bother to cover my chest with the towel. Modesty is for the weak and for people who can tolerate extreme heat.

"If these people want heat so badly, they can just go outside. At least that shit's free."

We waited for about ten minutes, but to me it felt like hours. We were soon joined by a young man with dark skin and short black hair. An awkward silence floated between the three of us. It was hard to tell if this was the man we were supposed to meet with, but I wasn't going to wait any longer in this oven.

"You the matchbox guy?"

Vulpes flashed a disapproving look in my direction. The new man's eyes widened.

"Matchbox...but you're not the reporter."

"We're the closest you're going to get." I tried to fan some cool air on my face. "The reporter was dead in his room."

"Oh good heavens." He held his head in his hand. "That means they're onto us. There's no time."

Vulpes raised an eyebrow. "Is there enough time for you to explain what's going on?"

He took some deep breaths.

"I can't stay here long, but I'll tell you what you need to know." Sweat trickled down his temple, but it was hard to tell whether that was from the steam or nerves. "The White Glove Society currently forbids cannibalism, but Mortimer and some others are regressing back to the old ways."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So the missing people…"

He nodded. "They've been capturing more and more people in secret. But after tonight, things are going to be very different around here."

"Why tonight?" Vulpes questioned.

"The White Glove Society has a banquet every night at 7. Tonight, Mortimer is planning on reintroducing human meat into our cuisine."

I felt a pit form in my stomach. "Then it's too late for the captured people, right? They're probably dead by now."

He shook his head. "No, I mean it shouldn't be. Our head chef has an obsession with using the freshest ingredients. If you hurry, there may be a chance they're still alive. But one more thing..."

His body jolted, his eyes widened before rolling back into his head. Before I could ask if he was okay, he fell to the floor of the steam room. A needle was sticking out of his neck.

We barely had any time to react. Vulpes and I shot out of the steam room as fast as we could.

…

They were onto us, they had to be. We tried to blend in with the crowds when we went back to the casino. I figured that the Ultra-Luxe wouldn't murder someone in front of guests.

"We need to get into that banquet." Vulpes folded his hands behind his back and stared down at the ground. "We need a disguise."

I shrugged. "Maybe they'll accept guests."

Vulpes glared at me. "This is a banquet for the White Glove Society. It's highly unlikely that they'll allow outsiders to partake."

"Um, excuse me?" A masked woman in a peach-colored dress walked up to us. She didn't really look like an assassin, but I wasn't taking chances.

"What is it?"

"The entire Strip is buzzing about how they saw you walk into the Lucky 38." She pushed her hair behind her ears. "This sort of thing hasn't happened before and we would be honored if you attended our banquet tonight. We would love to hear all about it."

"Yes, of course." I wanted to look professional, but it was hard suppressing my smirk. "We accept your invitation."

She curtsied and scampered off. I finally allowed myself to smirk completely.

"What was that you said about them not letting outsiders in?"

Vulpes scoffed. "I said it was highly unlikely. But do you even know how to properly behave at a formal dinner?"

I shrugged. "Probably more than someone like you."

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "I am a master of infiltration. I know how to blend in with any culture and any environment. If we get caught, the fault is yours."

I backed away from him with my hands up. "Okay, okay." I looked around the casino. "Wait, do you see Livius anywhere?"

**-Livius-**

I woke up. My head hurt. My body was cold. I forced myself to sit. The room I was in was small, metal, and very cold. The walls were too close, it felt like they were squeezing down on my head. I couldn't run, but my breathing was fast like I just ran across the Mojave.

"Hey kid, cool it." A man in a brown suit sat in the corner with his arms wrapped around his legs.

"If that's another fucking freezer pun," Another man stood pounding his fists against the metal door. "Then I'm getting my daddy to kill you to."

The man in the suit rolled his eyes and looked back at me. I recognized him as the man from the photo. "So, fresh meat. At least I'll get to die with company beyond the spoiled kid of a brahmin tycoon."

"I heard that!"

"Wait, die? I backed up against the wall. The room was freezing, but I felt like I was burning up. "What's going on?"

He sighed, his breath was visible as it drifted up towards the ceiling.

"We're being held captive so they can cook us and eat us. Simple, really."

I thought I was going to black out again. Did that mean all the meat I was smelling before...no, I didn't want to think about that.

"I-is there anyone outside?"

"We're in the kitchen so the head chef should be right outside that door. Farm boy's been trying to get his attention for hours, but it's a waste of time."

The other man stopped hitting the door. "I need these freaks to know who they're messing with!"

This couldn't be real. This isn't how a legionary is supposed to die.

"But they can't eat me." My voice trembled. It sounded so stupid. "I'm stringy."

The frumentarius shrugged. "I'm sure they'll find something to enjoy about you."

My movements were becoming slower from the cold. Also I was giving up. The walls felt like they were closing in on my lungs. I curled up against a sack of potatoes as my body shook. My fingers trembled against the frost-dusted burlap.

This isn't how I was supposed to die.

**-Celeste-**

While the banquet was at 7, we got there a few hours earlier in the hopes of sneaking into the kitchen undetected. Unfortunately, the dining room was already filled with people. People who were very interested in asking me the same questions over and over.

"So what does the Lucky 38 look like on the inside?"

"Robots. Very red."

"Is it just as grand as it is in the photos?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Did you get to speak with Mr. House?"

"Nope."

The entire time, the door to the kitchen was staring me right in the face. Occasionally a server would walk out of those doors, but for the most part the area seemed vacant.

I coughed and stood up. "Would you excuse me?" I locked eyes with Vulpes and motioned over to the exit.

We found an area behind the stairwell that didn't have a lot of staff running around it. But we still kept our voices low.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"You're asking me?" He looked over his shoulder and sighed. "I told you, we need a disguise."

"Or a diversion."

He looked back at me. "It would be best if we got through this with as little attention drawn to us as possible. The only way-" He stopped talking and his eyes widened.

"What are you…"

I was cut off when I felt something blunt smack the back of my legs. I toppled to the ground. It took me all of my willpower not to scream in pain.

Two men in masks wielding heavy black canes were standing over me. Vulpes managed to restrain one from beating me more, but that still left one on the loose. We were cornered behind a stairwell and my leg was in a world of pain. It wasn't like I could run anywhere.

My leg was throbbing beyond belief, but I forced myself to stand. The masked man raised his cane to strike me again and my mind went blank before I could piece together a plan.

The man made an odd grunting noise and fell to the ground at my feet. Behind him, I could see Vulpes tucking a butterfly knife into his coat pocket.

"But our weapons…"

"I don't particularly care for being unarmed." He rolled one of the men over with his foot. "And it looks like we have our disguises. Just try not to limp. That will give us away."

We changed into the suits and masks as quickly as we could. I wasn't able to wear my glasses due to the mask, so Vulpes would have to serve as my seeing eye legionary. Between my bad vision and my injured leg, the walk back to the dining room was a painful and disorienting one. But fortunately we were able to slip into the kitchen without anyone noticing.

The door lead us into a long dark hallway lined with flickering dim lights, definitely not the classy pristine place we were in before. They might as well just put up a sign that said "Hey, some shady shit's going on in here!"

"So what's the plan?" I whispered as quietly as I could behind the mask.

Vulpes didn't respond so either he was trying to not draw attention to himself, or he had no idea what he was doing.

We finally got to the kitchen and it didn't seem any more cheerful. A man in a white chef's coat stood sharpening a knife over a blazing stove. He didn't seem to notice us at least.

"The walk-in freezer is over there." Vulpes muttered under his breath. "But I need you to distract the chef."

"How am I supposed to…"

Vulpes grabbed a large pot from the shelf and slammed it against the floor before scampering away. The chef stood up straighter like a dog who heard a whistle and made a beeline straight for me.

"What the fuck is this?" He got right in my face screaming. "Are your fucking inbred hands incapable of holding a fucking pot?"

Since he was holding a knife my first instinct was to not piss him off further, but over his shoulder I could see Vulpes tampering with the freezer lock. I needed to stall further.

"I dropped a pot. There's no need to get angry about it."

I swore a vein in his neck was going to burst.

"Don't tell me what I have to get angry about!" His screaming became louder and increasing in pitch. "The banquet is in a few hours and if everything's not perfect, I swear I will serve your head on a fucking platter!"

I tried to piece my response together as carefully as possible.

"You seem to be naturally dispositioned towards anger."

His jaw dropped. "Are you...are you trying to fucking psychoanalyze me?"

"I used to get angry a lot too." My face was sweating like crazy behind the mask. "I thought rage was something that I would have to deal with my whole life. But then I realized I was hurting the people who cared about me. It was something I had to work with."

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" He was waving the knife dangerously close to my face. "Did it ever fucking occur to you that I yell at people because they fucking deserve it? Not because dad walked out on us, or mom was a chem fiend, or my sisters would lock me in a shipping crate, or my brother…."

His voice cracked and he stopped. His eyes widened and the knife in his hand trembled.

"I forgot about that. How could they do that to me?"

I patted him on the shoulder. "You got a lot of demons, that's okay. You can't let them take control of you. You can rise above them."

The knife clattered to the floor and he pulled me into a hug. I let out a squeak in surprise. This was definitely not the response I was expecting. He shook and sobbed against my shoulder. I awkwardly patted his back.

"There...there?" I looked over his shoulder at Vulpes who was still messing with the freezer door.

"I fucking hate feeling like this." His voice was near impossible to decipher.

"Rage is a horrible feeling." _Hurry up, Vulpes…_ "But repressing yourself is an even worse feeling, I wish I knew that. I hurt so many people who were close to me because I refused to face my real problems head-on."

"I feel so weak…"

"Well, that's a good first step." I looked back over at Vulpes. The freezer was unlocked. I tried to push the chef off of me. "Go home, rest your mind. There's a clinic outside Freeside who can help you."

"But the banquet…"

"I can handle it. Go."

He nodded and ran out of the kitchen and into an elevator. Vulpes walked over to me.

"Did that really just happen?"

I shrugged, my shoulder was completely soaked. "What can I say, I'm a natural."

We opened the freezer door and both of us were greeted with a punch to the stomach. Standing in the doorway was a young man in a tattered white shirt and next to him was...Livius?"

"That's what you get for locking us up, sickos!" The young man shouted.

"I'm too stringy to eat!" Livius added.

Vulpes removed his mask and rubbed his ribs. "Look before you punch, recruit."

Livius's eyes widened to the size of saucers and he took a step back.

"S-sir? I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"Is anyone else with you?"

A third man in a brown suit stepped out from the freezer.

"Well, this is awkward."

Vulpes glared up at him. "I shouldn't have to bust you out every time you find yourself in trouble."

He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, sir."

"I don't think we're done here." I took my mask off. "Even if we do free them, the White Glove Society will continue to capture people."

Vulpes stared at me blankly. "I don't see how that's my concern."

"But what about the banquet?"

"As I said, not my concern."

We decided to use the elevator I watched the chef run towards. The elevator opened up into the main area of the casino.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Vulpes gestured to the brown-suited man from the photo. "This is Alerio. Alerio, this is the profligate and the recruit."

Livius's fingers twisted together. "I'm sorry I got in the way. I wanted to help."

Vulpes stared at him for a long time. "Apologies won't put you back in Caesar's favor."

"Guys I'd hate to interrupt," I looked over my shoulder at the growing crowd of masked men forming around Mortimer's desk. "But we should get going."

Alerio was left to continue scouting out the Strip. The three of us returned to the Tops so we could pack for my totally voluntary trip to Fortification Hill. While Vulpes sat in the living room, Livius and I wandered around looting the presidential suite

"This is horrible." Livius whispered to me.

"Huh?" I shoved a bunch of magazines into my bag.

Livius had been out of the freezer for a while, but he was still shaking.

"I punched Vulpes Inculta."

I shrugged. "Can't say I haven't thought of doing that myself."

"This is serious!" Livius dropped his bag and flopped down on the couch. "I could be crucified for this."

"I'm not going to let that happen." I pulled my bag over my shoulder. "I'll blow up that entire fort before they get the chance to hurt you."

Livius stared at me in shock before breaking into a small smile.

"No you wouldn't."

I grinned back at him. "It's the thought that counts."


	17. Chapter 17

**-Celeste-**

Vulpes's instructions were very clear. Sit down, shut up, and don't go anywhere without him knowing.

Yeah, guess who didn't listen.

I wasn't ready to leave for Fortification Hill. I still felt like something was clawing away inside of me. I needed help.

The night before we were supposed to leave, I was lying on the couch in the living area unable to sleep. The static buzzing in my hearing aids didn't help matters. Mr. House wasn't speaking to me but it was clear he didn't turn off the connection. I wondered if I could have gotten him to read me a bedtime story. It would be the most useful thing he's done for me with this power.

I sat up as slowly as I could. The presidential suite was dead quiet. Livius was curled up asleep on the floor in front of me. Vulpes claimed the master bedroom because of course he did. The door to the bedroom was shut tight. Did he even sleep? I thought he was supposed to be keeping a close eye on me. I could slip out any time, which is exactly what I did.

Stepping over Livius as carefully as possible, I grabbed my coat from the rack and tip-toed over to the elevator. I had a mini heart attack each time I heard the gears clang, knowing for certain that it woke everyone up. But I didn't have enough time to think about that. I ran into the elevator and smashed my thumb against the ground floor button.

The Tops Casino and the rest of the Strip were bursting with life especially at night. I didn't have time to admire how dazzling the Vegas lights must have looked contrasted against the night sky as I ran. I left the Strip, raced past the robot guards, and came to a stop when I reached a small community just outside Freeside.

I felt my breathing quicken, my body was shaking. I couldn't do it. Instead, I made a beeline straight to a familiar clinic.

It had to be 1 in the morning, but the clinic was still filled with patients. I avoided eye contact with them as I squeezed my way into one of the benches. I felt pathetic for being there. I was sitting in the same room as people who were shot, stabbed, poisoned. I had no visible symptoms. Usanagi told me that psychological illnesses are just as valid as physical illnesses. She'd know more about that than I would, I guess.

There was only one other person who wasn't visibly injured. He was a shorter man with short black hair sitting next to me. I did a double-take when I saw him and I suddenly recognized him.

"I almost didn't recognize you without your chef's coat."

He jolted like someone just zapped him with electricity.

"Who the fuck…"

"I understand if you don't remember me from yesterday evening. I was wearing a mask at the time."

He stared at me blankly for a moment before his eyes widened in realization.

"You're the fucking server from last night!"

"Small world, huh?" I leaned back against the bench and held my hand out. "I'm Celeste."

"Philippe." His voice was quiet and he didn't take my hand.

I ran my hand over my hair to combat the awkward moment. "How long have you been waiting here for?"

"My appointment's over. I have nowhere to go."

An uncomfortable silence wafted over us.

"So what's a big-time Vegas chef doing out here in Freeside?"

Philippe looked down at his hands and I saw his shoulders begin to tremble.

"You were right. I admit defeat. I need help."

"Oh." I turned away and looked down at the floor. "You know it's not defeat to get help, right?"

He shook his head. "You don't understand. I don't belong in this...fucking shithole." His words were biting and burning with venom, but he seemed more collected than he did the previous night. "I belong on the Strip, creating incredible dishes that none of these sewer rats could even dream of."

"I hear you're the best." I didn't actually hear anything, but I figured I could try to lighten the mood. "I was invited to the banquet, but I never got a chance to have any of your food myself."

Philippe scoffed, barely looking up at me. "Then you missed your chance. I'm done for."

I frowned. "What? What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I can no longer show my face on the Strip." He buried his head in his hands. "I failed the banquet. I allowed the ingredients to escape. Now Mortimer is framing _me_ for cannibalism." He sat up, his expression still blank and expressionless. "It's been a rough night."

I felt a bit of sympathy flicker inside of me, but then I remembered the whole cannibalism thing and it quickly subsided.

"Hey, this can be a chance to start fresh!"

His shoulders sagged. "You weren't actually a server, were you?"

"What gave you your first clue?"

"Then why did you break into my kitchen? Why did you do this to me?"

I felt my body grow cold. "Because you kind of kidnapped one of my friends."

He sighed. "I'm not mad." He paused. "I mean I am mad. You fucking ruined my life. But I'm done yelling. I just don't feel like it."

"That's good progress, though." I shrugged. "Choosing to be above your emotions, that takes a lot of skill and maturity."

"Actually I'm on a lot of drugs right now." He flopped back against the back of the bench. "They didn't have time to hear me go on and on about my damage and I didn't have the patience. It's easier."

"I mean as long as it's working…?"

Philippe shook his head, "I thought whatever they gave me would make me happier, but I just feel empty."

I patted his shoulder and grinned. "Hey, that's what recreational drugs are for."

He glared at me. "My mother was a chem fiend. If you're trying to be funny, it's not.."

I retracted my hand. "...sorry."

Philippe brought his knees up to his chest. "You said you tried to get help because you were hurting people who cared for you. But what no one cares about you?"

I struggled to try to find a response, but I came up blank.

"I don't know. But that was my motivation. Maybe yours is something different."

"They're calling you."

"Huh?"

He motioned over to the doctor's office.

"Oh." I sat up. "See you around?"

"When these pills wear off, you won't want to."

I made my way through the waiting area and into the doctor's office. A tired and disgruntled man sat at his desk scribbling on a notepad.

"What seems to be the problem."

My mind went blank, for a second I forgot why I was there. I figured I didn't have enough time to tackle my real problems.

I looked over my shoulder at Philippe who was still sitting in the waiting area.

"I want whatever you gave him."

**-Livius-**

I woke up even earlier than I usually do. I had to. I had to act like a good recruit. It wasn't too late to turn back on all of my degenerate ways.

Celeste was still asleep on the couch. I wondered if Vulpes Inculta was still asleep too. I hear the frumentarii train themselves to sleep with their eyes open so they can easily spring into action. Or maybe that was night stalkers. Whatever.

I crept into the bathroom and flicked the light on. Vulpes Inculta was right; I didn't look like a legionary. My hair was longer than any legionary's should be. I also looked cleaner than usual. I liked the baths Vegas had, but it cleaned off any legion grittiness.

As my fingers twisted in my hair, my other hand reached over for my straight razor. I took a deep breath and began to hack away at my hair. When I was done, I felt a huge relief branch through my neck. It probably would have looked better if someone else was doing it for me, but I figured this was a good first step to looking like a real legionary.

I just hoped everyone else would buy it.

We left for Cottonwood Cove the second Vulpes Inculta woke up. Celeste complimented my hair but Vulpes didn't say anything. That's okay. He's the leader of the frumentarii so he probably has better things to worry about.

I was ready for Vegas and the area around it to be a distant memory, but Celeste stopped us once we left Freeside.

"I can't go on." Her voice was shaky. "There's something I need to take care of."

Vulpes Inculta's eyes narrowed at her. "My lord's instructions were clear."

"Please. This will only take a second!"

She stared at me, but I couldn't defend her. This wasn't the time to turn my back on Caesar's orders.

Vulpes Inculta was unmoving and Celeste sighed in defeat. I noticed her continuing to look over her shoulder as we walked. I wanted to ask her about it, but I figured she wouldn't give me a real answer. People usually didn't trust me with information. Not that I blame them.

I'm just a recruit.

And even then, not a good one.

…

As we got further east, Vulpes Inculta and I were able to change back into our legion armor. I thought I was going to break down when I put that uniform on. It felt like another set of skin. This was my identity. I was home.

We set up camp and I could feel Celeste's stare burning into me.

"What?"

"I forgot how stupid that armor looked."

"We'll reach Fortification Hill by tomorrow afternoon." Vulpes Inculta cut in. "_If_ there are no further distractions."

Celeste huffed and crossed her arms.

I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to know.

"Um, Vulpes Inculta, sir?" My voice came out a lot higher than I wanted it to. I sounded like an idiot.

He looked at me and I cleared my throat.

"I just wanted to know if I have any chance of returning to Lord Caesar's army."

Vulpes Inculta stepped closer and I resisted the urge to back away. He was shorter than me, but at that moment he felt like a tower.

"You are a poor excuse of a foot soldier. You disobey orders, run away from your brothers, sabotage an intricate operation, you've done nothing wrong to prove your worth."

Time seemed to slow down. My heartbeat was deafening in my ears. I felt my body tremble. I thought I'd at least have a chance…

"If it were up to me, I would have had you lashed to a cross the second the monorail mission failed." He continued. "But instead, I had to make sure you didn't do anything stupid and clean up your messes when you inevitably did. Use that NCR soldier and that traitor centurion as an example of what happens when you get in the legion's way."

_Michael and Silus. _I thought I was going to pass out. I knew this whole thing was my fault.

But I managed to continue standing. I couldn't afford to do anything further. I nodded and mumbled a small "yes sir" even though I wanted nothing more than to cry right there. I couldn't stand to humiliate myself like that.

I thought I would feel better at night, but I just felt worse. My stomach was burning. My mind was racing. I couldn't even bring myself to cry, instead my breaths came out in painful sputtering gasps. How could I let this happen? I was careless. When Lord Caesar finds out about all this, crucifixion would be a kind option. Even the uniform I was wearing felt fake. I didn't deserve to wear it.

"Rough night?" Celeste sat down next to me, a cigarette between her lips. I cringed at the smoke so she put it out. "I'll be honest, I really don't care for that guy."

My lip trembled as I tried to respond. It took a long time for me to say something without sounding pathetic.

"But he's right. I'm a traitor. I'm a horrible legionary. It's my fault they died. Michael, Silus, my squad!"

I slammed my fists against the packed earth and I was unable to hold back my tears anymore. Celeste held my arms back.

"Whoa, whoa. Take some deep breaths." She patted my back as I struggled to control my breathing in the dusty air. "You don't have control over anyone else's life. We had this conversation back in Goodsprings, remember?"

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "And more people died since then. Face it: I'm a failure."

"You need sleep."

I shook my head. "I tried. I can't. My thoughts just won't stop. I feel trapped. I hate myself. I can't stop hearing what Vulpes Inculta said to me." I fell forwards but Celeste caught me. "I want to feel like myself again."

Celeste was quiet for a long time. She continued to pat my back, but even then she began to pull back.

"...Livius?"

"What is it?"

I heard her sigh and she reached into her pocket.

"I know you're going to say no, but I'm just putting this out there." She pulled a small container out of her pocket. After opening it, she poured one white pellet into her hand. "I bought these pills to help me cope with my anxiety and anger. Just take one and see if it helps you get to sleep."

She took my hand and placed the pill on my palm. I hated myself more when I realized I wasn't completely disgusted by the suggestion.

I closed my fist around the pill. "Will this make me feel better?"

Celeste put the bottle away. "It will help ease your mind as you sleep, but it won't solve all of your problems."

A good legionary would have thrown the pill away and told her off, but I couldn't bring myself to do so.

"Thank you."

She smiled and ruffled my hair. "You're a good kid. Don't let any creepy dog-headed people tell you otherwise."

**-Celeste-**

Maybe waking up at dawn works for the legion, but it certainly doesn't work for me. Once again Vulpes was half-escorting-half-dragging us across the Mojave wasteland. I didn't even have a chance to check up on Livius. It was hard to tell how he was feeling just by looking at him. But the closer we got to Cottonwood Cove, the more I didn't want Livius to rejoin the Legion. Not just because the Legion is made up of violent slavers, but because they're bad for him in more ways than one.

We finally entered Cottonwood Cove. I still remember Nipton. The crucifixes, the heads impaled on spikes, I thought that was just done to destroy the town. But Cottonwood Cove had the exact same display, just without the buildings on fire. Great, that's comforting.

A tall legionary named Cursor Lucullus paddled us to the Fort on a flimsy raft. Livius kept his head down, staring down at his feet as if he was being disrespectful by only existing. The Mark of Caesar weighed heavily in my pocket. It hit me that while I was being sent here in honor, Livius was being sent here in shame.

I meant it when I said he was a good kid. He should have been born in another faction. Sure, each group has their share of douches and idiotic ideals (hello, this is Doctor Enclave talking here), but surely he deserves to be with people who don't treat him like garbage.

The raft landed on the shores. I gripped the Mark of Caesar so tight it left an imprint on my palm. I was finally going to meet the man responsible for Livius's ideals.

This was gonna be fun.


	18. Chapter 18

**-Celeste-**

Say what you want about the Legion, at least they're consistent.

Fortification Hill looked exactly like the territories they conquered. Rows of identical red tents, crucifixes planted up on hills, soldiers and slaves being whipped alike. This place didn't exactly scream "home" to me.

But Livius seemed to loosen up once we stepped onto Fort grounds. He gave me the grand tour in the most inviting way one could give a tour of a glorified raider camp ("and here's mess hall where we have meals after a long day, and here's the row of crucifixes…"). Honestly it was a bit difficult paying attention to him since we had to march up this stupidly steep hill to get to Caesar's tent. By the time we got to the peak, my legs felt like they were on fire. I guess if you are going to have a bunch of people running around in skirts, they must have killer calves to pull it off.

I had to stop to take a breather. I leaned against the rust-colored boulders as I saw two children sprint past me down the hill. The two kids wore tiny legion uniforms which made me wonder where the legion got football gear that small. At first I was frustrated that I was being out-performed by a couple of kids, but then it hit me.

"There's children here?"

Livius stopped prattling on about whatever fun activities the legion offered.

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Do they fight?"

He shrugged. "It depends. When I was a kid, I had to run even longer distances plus scouting missions. I almost had a coyote tear my throat out when I was ten. Kids here have it easy!"

I stared at Livius in horror as he gave an awkward laugh. He stared at me curiously.

"You guys don't do that?"

"Are you kidding?" I pushed my glasses up. "I mean the Enclave was weird, but not...child soldier weird."

Livius stared at his feet for a while before continuing up the hill. I sighed and trailed after him.

A rusted drawbridge slowly creaked open revealing a second part of the camp. This area looked a bit more like a place people could actually live in. Red tents lined the outer walls, soldiers dressed like Livius mingled about, and up at the very peak was a larger tent decorated with red tapestries.

"I'll show you around." Livius grabbed my arm. "This is the blacksmith," he pulled me over to a legionary working at a grindstone.

Livius dragged me to a ring-shaped wall constructed out of pieces of scrap metal. A man holding a thermos stood near the entrance, looking like he wanted nothing to do with this little tour.

"And this is Otho. He runs the arena."

Otho stared at me while he drank from his thermos. "Is there a reason you brought this woman over to me, recruit?"

Livius shrugged, averting eye contact. "Caesar invited her so I'm showing her around. How about you tell her about the arena?"

Otho narrowed his eyes at Livius. "Recruit, I've been standing out here for 24 hours. I don't have the patience, time, or limited vocabulary to deal with your bullshit."

Livius forced a smile and began to walk away. "Sorry for bothering you, sir."

"Just make sure that woman stays out of trouble."

I followed Livius up to the large tent.

"What's his deal?"

Livius shrugged. "Otho has to stay in front of the arena all day. He can actually sleep with his eyes open while he's on duty so he can spring into action!"

"You're thinking of night stalkers."

Livius paused. "Oh, right. I keep getting the two mixed up."

I could feel Livius's nerves rising as we got closer to Caesar's tent. He was visibly shaking in his boots and I could hear his breathing getting heavier.

"You okay?"

He tensed up further, but nodded.

"I'm fine. Let's go, we kept my lord waiting long enough."

The inside of Caesar's tent was a large open area with only a couple of Persian rugs as decorations (he did have better taste in rugs than the Ultra Luxe). I saw Vulpes standing with a cluster of other legionaries beside a throne. And seated in that throne was the Mighty Lord Caesar himself.

I didn't want to press further, so I pulled the tent flap back and we stepped in. At that moment, I realized I had no idea what Caesar looked like. Up until that point, I always just imagined Caesar as a symbol for everything that sucked about Livius. I expected him to be, like, 8 feet tall, wearing armor constructed out of deathclaw bones, sitting on a throne made of fire (how? I don't know).

Needless to say, I was pretty disappointed.

Caesar was not an 8 feet tall monster who was made out of fire (I'm actually not quite sure what my original interpretation of him was). Instead he was an older man of average height and certainly not made out of fire. His white hair was mostly shaved to a light fuzz on the top of his head. He looked a lot like my grandfather, but he had a look of crazy determination on his face like he was prepared to rip a cazador's stinger out with his teeth. So a lot like my grandfather.

I approached the man as Livius stood over to the side refusing to even look at him. I cleared my throat.

"Uh, you asked for me?" _Was I supposed to bow or something?_

He leaned back on his throne. "So I finally get to meet the woman who accomplished so much in so little time. A man nearly kills you so you choose to track him halfway across the Mojave? Most folks wouldn't have that kind of bravery."

I know I was invited there as a guest, but I wasn't expecting this sort of praise.

"In hindsight, it was kind of a stupid idea."

"I choose to call it determination, but perhaps I'm a bit more optimistic than you." He steepled his fingers. "I called you here for a reason. The question is, are you ready to get started?"

My mind drew a blank. "Uh, what?"

Caesar sighed. "My legion requires your assistance."

"No offence, but why should I assist you?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Because you're surrounded by men who are trained to eradicate anyone who disobeys my orders."

"Point taken."

"Plus," He gestured over to the far side of the tent. "As a reward for helping me, I'll let you take care of your old friend."

I followed his movement with my eyes. Kneeling against the wall of the tent was Benny, his wrists bound and his checkered coat torn at the hems. Months ago I would have laughed at this, but now…

"What do you need me to do?"

"Glad to see you decided to cooperate." He rested his hands back on the armrests. "Down the hill, there's an old building. Inside the building, there's a hatch that leads to two steel doors that bear the sigil of the Lucky 38 casino, the same symbol on the Platinum Chip Benny was carrying when we captured him."

"Huh, that's weird."

"What's even more 'weird' is the slot above the hatch doors that seems to be the perfect size for the chip. I believe that the chip is the key to opening those doors."

"Where do I come in?"

"I need you to go down into that hatch and destroy whatever's inside."

I crossed my arms. "You have the chip. Why don't you do it?"

Caesar frowned. "As long as you are in my territory, you will obey my orders. The Mark you carry is a privilege, a privilege I can dismiss if I see any more disobedience from you."

I stared at Caesar, desperately wanting to argue but knowing that probably wasn't a good idea. Finally, I sighed in defeat.

"Fine, I do what you asked. Come on, Livius."

"Oh no." Caesar waved for me to stop. "You go by yourself. I'll deal with this recruit alone."

I felt my body tense up. Livius looked like he was just splashed with ice water.

"I'd feel better if he-"

"Are you turning your back on the Mighty Caesar, outsider?"

I could see the guards begin to step towards me. I took a deep breath and shook my head.

"No, Caesar."

Livius gave me a reassuring look as I turned to leave the tent. I still wasn't sure. What if Livius was executed while I wasn't around to do anything about it? That does sound like something the Legion would do. The guards pushed me out of the tent before I even had a chance to say anything else. I could feel a pit begin to form in my stomach as I made my way down to the old bunker.

**-Livius-**

They were all staring at me. I hated it. I just wanted to disappear. But I had to do this. I had to prove my worth and if I couldn't do that, I could at least be a used as an example to other legionaries. All I could do was hope that Lord Caesar couldn't see how much I was shaking and that the whole mind reading thing was just a rumor.

Before Caesar could speak, I fell to my knees before him.

"Please forgive me, my lord. I promise I only had the best intentions of the legion in mind." I fell forwards, my arms shaking under my weight. "I'll take whatever punishment you think I deserve. I am still a loyal soldier, my lord. I promise."

Caesar leaned forward.

"Do you have a name, recruit?"

"Livius, my lord." I still couldn't bring myself to look up from the floor.

"Well, Livius. You've been a real pain in the ass for the legion these past few months."

Execution would have been less painful. I dug my nails into the floor as I let his words beat into me.

"You run away from your brothers in combat, you accept the aid of an outsider, you terminate an operation that could have given the legion a huge advantage against the republic. You do everything that a legion soldier is _not_ supposed to do, and you expect me to feel _pity _for you?"

My chest was tightening further. All of a sudden, the walls of the tent felt like they were closing in around me. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to run, but running is what got me in this mess in the first place.

"I'm sorry, my lord. I just-"

"I should have you crucified for your careless behavior, but I'm not going to do that."

_Did I hear that right?_ I looked up in shock.

"My lord…."

"I'm giving you a chance to prove your worth."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was too shocked to even stand up.

"This is a huge honor, my lord. I'll do whatever it takes!"

"Calm down, recruit." He waved his hand. "You avoided dying in battle before. Now, are you willing to die for the legion?"

I didn't even bother to think about the question and nodded.

"Yes, my lord. To die for your legion would be an honor."

"That's what I like to hear." Caesar leaned back on his throne. "Because as you know, war is approaching. I need more soldiers on the front line. If you can prove your worth at the dam, I will gladly accept you back into my legion. Picus told me about what he heard you saying back at Camp McCarran. You may not make the best decisions, but there's still loyalty in you."

Inside I was screaming, but I managed to look like an ideal soldier.

"Thank you, my lord."

I left the tent feeling like the weight of the world was lifted off of my shoulders. The air seemed fresher, the skies looked brighter. Finally, I was home.

Reaching into one of the folds of my uniform, I pulled out the small white pill Celeste gave me. I stared at it for a while. I couldn't bring myself to take it and I couldn't imagine the guilt I would feel if I did.

I took a deep breath and threw the pill as far as I could. Another weight lifted off of me. For the first time in a while, I felt completely secure and at peace.

I just hoped Celeste was doing okay.

**-Celeste-**

Another legionary walked me over to the abandoned building near the far corner of the Fort. The metal doors creaked open and the legionary handed me the Platinum Chip and a bag.

"Lord Caesar has allowed you to have your weapons as you destroy the bunker."

"About time." I swung the bag over my shoulder and made my way over to the control panel pressed up against the wall. Sure enough, there was a little notch just big enough for the chip. I pushed the chip into the notch and something clicked. The ground began to rumble beneath my feet. The metal floor opened revealing a small set of stairs.

The legionary was staring at me expectantly. I sighed, took the chip back, and headed down into the basement. The best I could do was finish this fast so I could get back to Livius as soon as possible.

The stairs lead down a short dark hallway only light by a few flickering lights dying on the walls. At the end of the hall there was a large steel door with the faded symbol of the Lucky 38 painted on it. The surface of the door was scraped up and charred in some places from being blasted. I reached my hand out and the door slowly began to open with a groan.

I barely stepped inside when I heard a familiar voice and my hearing aids began ringing uncontrollably.

"So, we meet again."

I turned to the side to see a computer system much like the one at the Lucky 38. That same image of Mr. House's face was projected onto a flickering green screen.

"Oh good, you're here." I took my hand off of my pistol. "Because we have to talk about this hearing aid thing."

"We really don't. There are more important matters to discuss."

"Caesar asked me to destroy this bunker." I crossed my arms. "I'm really in no position to work against him."

"If you follow my instructions carefully, you shouldn't have to." His tone was becoming more and more strained. "The Platinum Chip contains the information needed to upgrade the securitrons. I need you to manually upload the data from the Chip to the facility's primary computer. There's a terminal at the other end of this facility."

"All of a sudden everyone wants me to do errands for them." I muttered under my breath.

"If it makes you feel any better, you were not my first choice for this job. Come back to the Lucky 38 after you finished this task."

His screen turned off, the static buzzing in my hearing aids died down. Well, it wasn't like I had much of a choice. I pulled my bag further up on my arm and headed deeper into the bunker.

It was like walking through a robot museum, or a cemetery. Turrets stood deactivated against the walls. Various pieces of scrap metal were strewn out across the rusted floors. I had to squeeze past a lifeless sentry bot to get further down the hallway. The only sound came from my boots lightly stepping against the floor.

As I headed deeper into the bunker, I passed a large window. Behind the scraped up glass was a huge room, every inch of which was lined with securitrons. I remember seeing photographs of this old world relic: the Terracotta Army. It was like that but, you know, robots.

Past the giant robot army room was a terminal bolted to the wall. Beneath the dimly glowing screen was a small notch. I shoved the chip in and the screen began to glow brighter. I like to think I know my way around computers, but I rushed through the download process as quickly as I could. I was getting antsy. Livius could be dead and I had the strangest feeling that I was being exposed to radiation.

The download process completed and the entire bunker began to shake. I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Outside the room I could see rows of lights begin to flick on.

Good news: I upgraded the securitrons.

Bad news: I have to run from a robot army.

I bolted out of the room as fast as I could. The once abandoned bunker was very much alive. Bullets from the turrets pinged against the walls. The large and bulky sentry bot from before apparently did not like being stepped over and was now ready to claim its revenge. My fingers felt too numb to reach for my gun so I just made a beeline for the exit.

A burning pain erupted in my left arm and I nearly fell over again. The feeling of pain was subsided by my need to escape. My mind went blank as my legs went into autopilot. When I finally regained awareness, I was lying in an abandoned building with a legionary looking down at me.

"Well…" His voice was slightly muffled through his bandana. "You lived."

…

Fortunately, the injury in my arm was nothing that couldn't be dealt with. Sure it was burning and the edges of the wound were slightly green, but that's not a big deal.

The real horror was the legion's methods of healthcare.

A woman wearing tattered rags kept cleaning my arm with water and trying to shove healing powder down my throat. I knew none of this would work, but bless her heart for trying.

"I'm sorry this is all I can offer you." She tied the bandages tighter. "I have to follow legion policies."

"It's fine." I rubbed my skin around my arm.

"A free woman…" She spoke wistfully. "It's been so long since I've seen one."

I felt my stomach drop.

"Oh."

She shook her head, running her hand over her shorn black hair. "Forget me. It's just strange that Caesar would invite a woman here."

I shrugged. "Just as confused as you. I'm Celeste."

She stared at me strangely for a while then bowed her head. "Siri."

I saw another woman approach the outdoor healing station. She wore a similar set of rags which fit awkwardly over her muscular build. Even though she held her shoulder as if she were in pain, she still moved with a large amount of strength and determination.

"Can you pop my shoulder back into place?"

Siri looked back and forth between the two of us.

"This is Stella. She's a captured NCR ranger. Stella, this is Celeste. She was invited here by Caesar."

"So you came here voluntarily? Lucky you." She sat down across from us and sighed. When I looked harder, I noticed her freckled skin was covered in bruises and cuts. I figured I wouldn't like the answer, but...

"How did you get hurt?"

Stella stared down at her bruised fists as if she hadn't noticed them before.

"I fight in the arena." She waved her hand dismissively. "You should see the poor guy who had to face me."

"Women typically don't fight in the arena." Siri explained. "But Caesar made an exception for Stella since she's a ranger."

"Looks like the legion has been giving all sorts of exceptions to the ladies lately." Stella gestured to me, wincing slightly. "Maybe some day they'll let us wear those cute little skirts of theirs."

"You shouldn't joke about that…."

"Wait, so they let you fight?" I looked back at Stella. "Are you any good?"

Her cut lip formed into a smirk. "All arena matches are to the death. I've been here for months. You figure it out."

"Oh."

"Anyway," She rubbed at her shoulder. "Can you patch me up? The asshole is going to be worried if I'm gone for too long."

Siri picked up another roll of bandages. "You really shouldn't speak about Otho like that."

Stella scoffed. "He secretly loves it, I can tell."

Another legionary came running towards us. Siri nearly dropped the bandages she was holding and even Stella seemed to tense up.

"Lord Caesar demands your presence back at his tent."

I forced myself to my feet and trailed after the legionary. My arm was pulsing from the wound and the improper care. When we reached the top of the hill, I was practically shoved back into the tent. A feeling of relief washed over me when I saw Livius standing near the edge of the tent, completely unharmed. I gave him a small smile before approaching Caesar's throne.

"I felt the ground shake a while ago." Caesar mused. "I take it the bunker is destroyed?"

_No I totally just woke up a massive robot army, my bad._

"I did as you told."

An awkward silence lingered throughout the tent before Caesar decided to speak again.

"Now for my end of the deal. I'll let you deal with the prisoner in whichever way you deem appropriate."

My mouth went dry, but I walked over to Benny who was still bound to his knees on the floor.

"From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck."

"Real funny, baby." Benny looked up at me through one badly bruised eye. "Real funny."

I crossed my arms. "The legion said I have to decide how you die now."

"So you're siding with the legion boys, huh? That bullet must have done a number on you, baby."

I groaned and rubbed my scar. "I'm not siding with them, I-" I looked around, it didn't seem like anyone was listening closely. Kneeling down closer to Benny, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "The bunker isn't destroyed. I upgraded the securitron army that was down there."

He gave a slight laugh. "Imagine the look on baldie's face when those securitrons start pouring out of there. That may just be the exact thing we need to defend Vegas against the NCR and the Legion."

"What's this 'we' business now."

"Come on, baby. You and I both know that Vegas being run by either of them won't do your business any good."

I felt my face grow cold. The conflict between the NCR and the Legion certainly made my job a lot easier. If either of them were to claim the Mojave...

"But what other options do we have? The war has to end eventually and someone has to win."

Something sparked in Benny's eye. "Who said it had to be either of those cats? I'm going for broke on an independent Vegas, baby."

"And how do you plan on pulling that off exactly?"

Benny tugged at his restraints. "If I could just get back to the Tops…"

"I still have to decide your fate."

"You're still on that?"

"I have no reason to trust you."

He gave a frustrated sigh. "I get that. I've been a fink to you, but you have to let this slide. Think of the big picture."

"I don't think 'third time's the charm' applies to attempted murder, Benny."

But still, I couldn't help but believe that he was being genuine. Standing there in the middle of legion territory, he was the only one who was making any sense.

I sighed in defeat. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me three times, blame the mental scarring from the gunshot wound.

"I'm going to fight you in the arena."

"After all we've been through, baby?"

I frowned. "We're going to stage your death and sneak your body back to the Strip."

Benny cocked an eyebrow. "Really? _That's_ your plan?"

"Well I don't see you offering any decent escape plans."

He broke into a smirk. "Maybe they'll crucify us together when we get caught."

"Just stab me before that can happen."

…

The Legion went through with my decision to fight Benny, but not everyone was so thrilled about this.

"Women have no place in the arena." Otho stood in front of the arena entrance, blocking my way in.

"It's Caesar's will." The legionary beside me responded. "Move aside."

Otho narrowed his eyes at me, then sighed and waved for me to enter.

The arena was basically a patch of dirt surrounded by corroding metal walls. The packed earth beneath my feet was stained red from blood.

"Nice place you got here."

Otho scowled at me. "It's only temporary. When the legion seizes New Vegas, I'll have a much bigger arena."

"A scary thought."

He handed me a machete. The weapon fit awkwardly in my hand and the blade wobbled at the hilt. I couldn't imagine how anyone could fight with this.

"It's a machete." Otho spoke slowly as if he was talking to a child. "You will use it to kill your opponent."

I placed my hand to my chest in mock gratitude.

"Oh thank you for the explanation! With my delicate woman brain, I was going to use it to spread some jam on my toast!"

Otho rolled his eyes.

"All fights are to the death, no exceptions. Do not disappoint me."

"So, you're saying I have a chance?"

He stared at me oddly, then turned to exit the arena.

"Just try to die quickly so I can have my coffee break."

Benny was pushed into the arena as well and given an identical decision. The door locked behind us and the match began.

I could see a crowd starting to form around the outer walls of the arena. This is certainly not how I expected my showdown with Benny to go. I could only hope that he remembered our little deal.

We charged at each other. The blade of my machete was angled in a way so it would just scratch his arm. My breath caught in my chest when I felt the rusted edge of Benny's machete barely graze against my throat. He pulled back. It was just for show and from the sounds of the onlookers, it seemed like we were doing a pretty good job.

I shoved Benny away as hard as I could with the sole of my boot. From the sidelines I heard Livius scream "Slam his head against the wall!" Once a legionary, always a legionary I guess.

Benny staggered to his feet, exaggerating how injured he was.

"Is that the best you got?"

I held my machete tighter. "I'm just getting started."

I ran at him at full speed and swept Benny's legs out from under him. He fell to the ground, the machete flew out of his hand.

The cheering only got louder as I stood over him. Taking a deep breath, I plunged the machete down between his arm and torso. I probably barely scratched him, but Benny made a choking sound and flopped his head back. Drama queen.

I dropped the machete and stood back. I didn't have a scratch on me, but I was out of breath. I couldn't believe I pulled that off.

The arena door slid open and Otho stepped in.

"Oh, you lived."

"Why does everyone here say that?" I sighed "So, how did I do?"

"Don't get smug, I have to examine the body." He knelt down by Benny.

I felt my heart race. I was dead. There's no way I could let this slip past him.

After a few seconds, Otho casually picked up a nearby machete and plunged it into Benny's stomach. His body jolted for a split second before falling limp. My stomach churned as I saw the red slowly begin to seep through his checkered suit.

Otho tossed Benny's body over his shoulder like a sack of flour and smiled at me.

"I'm very thorough with my job."

I didn't know what to say.

Just when we were about to leave the arena, he stopped and turned to me.

"You are on thin ice, outsider." Otho locked his eyes on mine. "Maybe in the Republic you could get away with shit like this, but _nothing_ gets past me in my arena."

I just nodded, my knees were shaking. What was I supposed to do? Other than just give up on this whole independent Vegas idea.

Stella approached me from the side.

"Hey, not bad." She patted my shoulder. "But I would have slammed his head against the wall. It's a bitch to clean up, but it's entertaining."

"Benny or Otho?"

"I already got dibs on Otho."

…

I didn't want to spend anymore time in that legion camp, but I had to speak with Livius.

"I'm leaving now." I stared off over the edge of one of the cliffs. "If you want to stay, I understand."

Livius bowed his head. "You are my friend, but I finally got a chance to prove myself. This is my home."

I forced a small smile. "I'm glad you weren't executed."

"Me too, but I have to fight on the front lines."

I sighed and looked down at my feet. "You'll do fine. You're an amazing fighter."

Livius didn't say anything, but he hugged me. His armor pushed awkwardly against me, but I patted his back.

"Just try not to die out there."

He laughed a bit. "Better to die than to run away."

"Not always."

…

A bitter loneliness hung over my head as I left the Fort. The metal walls faded into the distance as I drifted down the river. We each got what we wanted. Benny was dead, Livius was home. But still, I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to return to my simple wasteland drug dealer life.

A war between the Republic and the Legion was brewing.

And I was going to be caught in the crossfire.


	19. Chapter 19

**-Livius-**

The sun beat down on my neck as I walked to the training grounds. It felt good being in my old armor again, like I could actually move my legs for once. And that would come in handy when I started training again. This is what I needed. A new beginning, a new chance for me to show my worth. Now that I had Lord Caesar's blessing to continue fighting, there's nothing I couldn't do!

There was a small group of legionaries near the training grounds so I ran over to them.

"Brothers!" I waved my arm. "Can I join? I need a sparring partner."

They stopped for a second, then went right back on to their training. I kept trying to get their attention over the sound of clanging machetes, but they all ignored me. It was like I didn't exist. They moved away from me before I could get a chance to leave the training grounds.

This treatment continued. I could see my brothers staring at me, only to turn away when they saw me approaching. There was whispering behind my back. No one sat next to me during meals. I was invisible.

I sighed and walked over to the water pump, my feet shuffling against the dry earth. Really I couldn't blame them for treating me like that. But that didn't make me feel any less awful.

Kneeling down in front of the constantly-dripping pump, I splashed some lukewarm water on my face. It didn't help, but I didn't complain. Legionaries aren't supposed to complain.

Through the corner of my eye, I could see someone walking up to me. It was one of the arena fighters, a captured woman NCR ranger. She set a bucket down underneath the pump and cranked the rusted lever back.

"Shouldn't you be training?"

I stared down at the ground. Some of the water splashed out of the bucket, only to sizzle and dissolve into the hot ground.

"No one will train with me."

The ranger woman turned off the water and picked the bucket up.

"You're the one who came here with that woman, right? The one who fought in the arena?"

I just nodded. I didn't like talking about Celeste. I was afraid she would become a distraction.

She set the bucket down and knelt down next to me. My first instinct was to scramble away from her, but I held my ground.

"Here's some advice, kid." Her eyes were the color of dried blood and they were actually kind of intimidating up close. "The men here will never respect you. They will never see you as an equal."

I felt a lump form in my throat. _Was this supposed to make me feel better?_

"However," Her voice cut through my thoughts. "You can make them fear you. And in a way, there's more power in that. Make them believe that you are not a force to be reckoned with."

The ranger picked the bucket up and left me by the water pump. My brain was working overtime. Did I want my brothers to fear me as a fighter? Of course not. They were my brothers. There had to be a way I could prove myself to them.

I remember there was a time I didn't want to be a random soldier in people's eyes. I wanted to be known. I wanted people to recognize me around camp.

But now I had that.

And I desperately wanted to disappear.

…

Otho was the only one who would bother training me. Every evening, we would spar in the arena. It felt weird training against someone who was a higher rank than me, but I'll take it.

"They treat me like I'm an outsider." I got into a defensive stance and kept my eyes on Otho's movements.

Across the arena, Otho prepared his attack.

"Technically you are, at least to them. You're pretty much a traitor."

"It's not fair." I jumped back, dodging Otho's advance with his machete. "Caesar allowed me to come back."

"Life isn't fair." Otho lunged at me again, but I blocked him. "And you're in no position to be whining."

I ducked under his next attack and moved behind him.

"I'm not whining, sir. I'm honored to fight at the dam."

Otho fell silent. The atmosphere of the arena became oddly tense. Before I could ask him what was wrong, he spun around and tried to slash at me again. Our blades bashed together and I pushed him away.

"You fought at the first battle, right?"

He regained his balance and moved around me. I watched him carefully, never once losing grip of my weapon.

"I was at the Battle for Hoover Dam. An embarrassing day for the legion."

I evaded his next attack. Otho nearly crashed into the arena wall.

"Do you think the legion could win this next battle?"

Since Otho was a legionary, I was expecting an enthusiastic "yes". But he wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed.

"We have a better chance now that we have more men and stronger commanders. But who knows what the NCR will throw at us." He signaled for us to take a break and leaned against the wall.

I stared down at my feet. I could feel something clawing inside me. Something I wanted to ask, but I was afraid to.

"Do you think I will have a chance of living through the battle?"

Otho scoffed. "No chance in hell. No matter who wins."

"Oh." I slumped my shoulders. "But at least my brothers will see I'm not a traitor, right?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Through a gap in the arena wall, I could see the captured ranger carrying supplies around the Fort.

"I talked to your fighter. The woman."

Otho looked over at me, a confused look on his face. "Stella? What about?"

I shrugged. "She told me that my brothers will never respect me, but I should make them fear me."

"I told her that." He smirked. "I still maintain that the arena or the battlefield is no place for a woman, but she's incredible. One of the deadliest fighters I've ever seen."

"She seemed nice."

"Yeah." He stared out through the arena wall, his expression softening. "She is."

I grabbed my machete and lunged at Otho. Before he could react, I had the blade to his throat.

There was a look of stunned terror on his face for a second, then he narrowed his eyes and frowned.

"You were supposed to be on defence for today. This isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"Cute." He pushed me away. "Very cute."

"Thank you, sir."

**-Celeste-**

It was a long and grueling walk back to the Strip. Halfway through I ended up hitching a ride with a travelling caravan. It wasn't just the distance or the heat, it was the loneliness. I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't do the right thing back at the Fort. After all that, the idea of Livius just returning to being a soldier didn't feel right to me. But he had his path and I had mine. Now we could both live our futures of being bossed around by old powerful men.

Even with the war coming closer, Freeside and the surrounding areas hadn't changed. The wasteland has a way of feeling like it's frozen in time. I kept my head down as I drifted through the streets. _I'm not returning to the drug trade after this._ I told myself. _I'm not._

"Fancy seeing you around here, Cel."

It was like the universe was trying to challenge me or something. Standing there on the side of the road was Stanley, his dust-spattered coat drooping awkwardly against his body. He tipped his hat to me as if we were nobility in a fancy old world movie, not too drug dealers in Freeside.

"Not now, Stanley. I'm busy."

I tried to move past him, but he got in my way before I had a chance.

"I guarantee you can make time for this, Cel." He pointed a finger at me. "I'm moving the business up north."

"Well congratulations. Be sure to send a postcard."

He stopped me again. "You're coming with me."

I glared at him in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Just hear me out-"

"No, _you_ hear _me_ out." I stood on my tiptoes so I could get up in his face. "After I finish my business here, I'm quitting the business. I will not make or sell another drug. And you're going to deal with that."

Stanley stood back and frowned. "And what are you going to do? What jobs do you think are available to ex-Enclave drug dealers?"

A shiver ran down my spine. "Well, no one has to find out about that."

"I wouldn't be so sure." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a series of photographs. "Don't leave your stuff unattended for so long."

I snatched the photos from him and flipped through them. I felt my blood run cold. They were photos of my shack being ransacked by NCR troopers. The photos trembled in my fingers as I watched them remove my chem supplies, my weapons, my Enclave memorabilia.

"Some of this stuff belonged to my brother." My voice barely broke above a whisper. "I have to get it back!"

Stanley pried the photographs from my fingers. "Doing that will just be offering yourself up on a silver platter. Face it, toots. You're no longer off the grid, you're a big deal around here. There's no more running from your criminal record anymore. The best you can do is escape with me."

I stared down at the ground and pulled my bag further up on my shoulder.

"I don't need you."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "If it weren't for me, your drug trade would be barely more sophisticated than a lemonade stand."

"And if it weren't for me, your product would be barely more serviceable than dried brahmin shit."

"So you agree we need each other." He held his hand out to me. "What do you say?"

I stared at his hand for a while, then brushed past him and continued walking to the Strip gate.

"You won't make it without me!" Stanley yelled. "You need me!"

I gave him the finger like the mature and independent adult I am.

…

Entering the Lucky 38 is so much more satisfying when you make direct eye contact with other people while doing so.

_Yeah, I'm entering the Lucky 38. What are you going to do about it, plebeians?_

The heavy doors slammed behind me and I made my way up to the penthouse floor. I waded through a sea of securitrons and once again I was face-to-screen with Mr. House.

"The override was a success." House's voice came in through the speakers. "You are more useful than you look."

"That's an interesting way to say 'thank you for doing my dirty work'." I crossed my arms. "Now what?"

"Meet me in the testing chambers."

I tilted my head to the side. "Should I know where that is?"

Mr. House sighed in frustration. "The basement."

"Ah, gotcha."

One elevator ride later, I was in a large metal room only lit by a few flickering lights above. Half of the room was blocked off by a glass wall. When I stepped closer, I could see the other half was set up like a combat training room, with small brick walls, shooting targets, and dummies. And the room was lined with rows and rows of securitrons.

"Step closer to the observation area." Mr. House's voice rang out through my hearing aids.

I got closer so my forehead was barely grazing against the glass.

"I expect you're well familiar with my Securitrons by now."

One of the securitrons rolled over to one of the targets.

"The titanium alloy housing that protects its electronic core deflects small arms and shrapnel easily enough. Its X-25 gatling laser, produced to spec by Glastinghouse, Inc, is deadly against soft targets at medium range. For close-range suppression or crowd control, the Securitron is armed with a 9mm submachinegun."

As he spoke, the securitrons demonstrated each of their weapons. Each of the targets set up for them were littered with bullet holes.

"This is all well and good." He continued. "But thanks to your successful delivery of the Platinum Chip, the securitrons can now exhibit their secondary weapons."

Something clicked inside the securitrons and a huge missile launcher grew out of it. The ground of the observation area shook beneath my feet and the brick wall was reduced to a pile of smoking ash.

"The M-235 Missile Launcher gives the Securitron the ability to engage ground and air targets at significantly longer ranges. And a rapid-fire G-28 grenade launching system ensures the Securitron is deadly in close-range engagements."

The glass wall vibrated from the explosions ringing out on the other side. The testing room was nearly destroyed.

"The city of New Vegas finally has soldiers worthy of protecting it!"

I should have been excited too. This was a marvel of engineering. But I couldn't. My stomach was tying into a knot and my fingernails scraped against the glass wall. I thought back to the army of securitrons beneath the Fort. If they were all upgraded like this and they just started pouring out…

I looked out over the smoking remains of the testing room.

There's no way Livius could survive. I had to get back into the Fort somehow.

If the NCR didn't ransack my entire shack, I knew how to get in.

…

While the journey from the Fort was grueling and awful, the trip back was a blur. Cottonwood Cove was tense and oddly quiet. A few soldiers gave me some odd looks as I ran over to the docks, but no one made a move to stop me.

Cursor Lucullus, the man who brought me to the Fort, was sitting by the docks. He did a double-take when he saw me.

"The outsider?" He stood up so he towered over me in height. "But Caesar is done with you."

"Listen, I don't expect you to understand." I kept my hand on the Mark of Caesar as a weird method of support. "But I need you to take me to the Fort."

"I wasn't ordered to do so."

"How effective is the word 'please' in the Legion?"

"Not very."

"I was afraid of that." I loosened my bag from around my shoulder and reached inside. "But let me ask again."

…

The second the raft bumped against the river shore, I jumped off and bolted for the gate. As expected, I was stopped by a legion guard.

"Stop it right there, outsider!" He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me away. "Your business with Caesar is complete."

I didn't even bother to attempt to push past him.

"I'm not here for Caesar. I just need to talk to my friend."

"The recruit?" He scoffed. "The battle at the dam is getting closer. The soldiers do not have time for visitors. Especially outsiders. You expect me to let you just waltz right in?"

"But I might not get to see him again!" I clutched the strap of my bag tighter. "I'm not a threat! Search me, I'm clean!"

The guard stared at me for a long time, then motioned for me to empty my bag. I nodded, unwound the strap from around my torso, then dumped its contents on the ground between us. The guard's eyebrows shot up when a pile of explicit pornographic magazines fell out.

"What in Caesar's name…" He picked one of the magazines up. "What is this?"

"Raunchy magazines. Used to be all the rage before the war, now you really have to dig to find them."

The guard looked disgusted, but he kept flipping through the pages.

"Why do you carry these?"

"When I dealt in the unregulated pharmaceutical business, I'd use these to bribe NCR soldiers who tried to stop me."

"Does it work?"

"I don't know." I smirked at him. "Does it?"

**-Livius-**

I could feel the battle approaching, but I was way behind No one would train with me. No one would even look at me.

My brown leather helmet shook in my hands. It felt like it's been forever since I wore it. When the battle came, I would have to wear it along with my goggles and bandana. I would become another faceless soldier, like I was meant to be. As much as I wanted to forget everything Celeste said to me about being worth more, the way I was treated made that a lot harder.

I felt something smack against my forehead and I flinched. A rusted tin can toppled to the ground beside me. Across from the training grounds, a group of soldiers stood huddled in a circle glancing over their shoulders at me.

Something sparked inside me.

"Really?!" I picked the can up and stormed over to them. "Are we children, or are we grown soldiers?"

"You're a disgrace to the legion!" One of the soldiers pointed his finger at my face. "We heard everything. You shouldn't be here!"

A lump formed in my throat, I could feel my chest tightening. I was so ashamed, so humiliated. So angry.

"I am a soldier just like you." I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. "And when the battle comes, I will fight and die just like you."

The soldiers groaned.

"Why didn't you do that the first time?"

"Yeah, I heard you ran away like a coward. You left your squad to die."

"Then you helped the NCR."

"You only came back to avoid the cross."

My body was trembling. My skin was burning under the intense Mojave sun. Their voices began to meld together, becoming distorted and invading all of my senses. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Shut the fuck up!" I threw the tin can on the ground.

They stopped talking and they all stared at me.

"I came back to pay back for my actions. I was willing to take whatever punishment I was given, but Caesar gave me another chance." I felt more and more rage pouring out of me with each word. "I've seen the world out there. I've seen Vegas, I walked into an NCR camp. I could have given in to the degenerate lifestyle, but I didn't. Because I'm more of a loyal soldier than any of you jerks could ever be!"

I stormed away before any of them could say anything. It wasn't like I cared what they thought anyway. I would probably be whipped for what I said, but I didn't care.

As I marched through the Fort, I thought I saw someone running towards me. I almost fell over in disbelief.

"Celeste?"

She ran over to me, her hair sticking up in a yellow mess around her head.

"Thank god I found you. No offence, but it's impossible to tell you guys apart."

"We do wear uniforms." I felt such a sense of relief when I saw her. Part of me was tempted to tell her about my outburst. I had a feeling she would be proud of me.

But her expression suddenly became serious and I got worried.

"What's wrong?"

"You need to get out of here."

A long silence passed between us.

"What?"

She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"The securitrons, those box-shaped robots on the Strip, they're upgraded. All of their weapons are now deadlier and they're basically indestructible. And there's an army of them underneath the bunker here."

I just stared at her. How was I supposed to react?

"But the bunker was destroyed, so it's okay."

Celeste made that expression she does whenever she messed up.

"Celeste…."

"I'm sorry, I had to upgrade all of them!"

"Caesar told you to destroy the bunker."

"I don't know if you caught on to this, Livius, but I am shit at following orders!"

I stared down at the ground. Below my feet had to be millions of angry death robots. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I couldn't run away.

"So the robots are stronger, whatever. I still have to fight."

Celeste's eyes widened.

"Livius if those things are defending the Strip, you won't make it. No one in the legion will make it."

I shrugged, trying to appear more confident than I actually felt.

"People will die, it's a war. But the legion cannot fall."

"Livius!" Celeste reached out and gripped my shoulders. "The legion can fall! Civilizations fall! The Enclave lost most of its grip on the east because of some teenage vaultie. I was forced to flee and now you have to do the same. I managed to avoid the worst of it, I don't want you to go through the same thing I did."

I felt like I was dehydrated. There was no way I was running away after all that.

"If the legion dies, I will die along with it." I bowed my head, refusing to look at her. "I'm sorry, Celeste. I've been running away too much."

Celeste stared at me, then pulled me into a hug. I felt my eyes begin to water as I hugged her back.

"You're a good kid." She muttered. "Stupid at times, but a good kid."

I smiled weakly. "I'm sorry."

"I just wish you didn't make me do this."

"Huh?"

My body jolted against her as I felt a sharp pain in my neck. My joints went slack and I fell to the ground. My vision was fading, but for a split second I could see Celeste standing above me with a needle in her hand.

Then everything went black.

...

_[Next chapter is the finale]_


	20. Chapter 20

**-Livius-**

I woke up and I felt like I was underwater for a long time. I could remember bits and pieces of being awake. When I really concentrated, I could remember being carried, people standing over me, the ground shaking under my body. Other than that, everything was a blur. My last complete memory was Celeste standing in front of me back at the Fort.

My lungs strained as I took a deep breath and I forced my eyes open. The ground was still shaking rapidly beneath me. There was a rough brown blanket two inches above my face, sunlight was leaking through the fabric. I looked around and I was surrounded by wooden boxes. I squinted my eyes at them and tried to read what the letters said, but I could only make out a bunch of "S's".

Even though my muscles felt like liquid, I found the strength to tear the blanket away. The sunlight caused me to recoil and smack my head on the edge of a box. It took a long time for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I noticed I was not on the ground. I was in a metal cart being pulled by two brahmin through the desert. My breath caught in my throat.

_The battle. Did I miss it? Did I imagine the whole thing?_

"He's awake!" Celeste was walking in time with the cart, a rag tied around her neck and her glasses coated with dust. "Stanley, let's take a break."

"Thought you'd never ask." From behind me, I could see the wiry man from outer Vegas bring the cart to a slow stop.

The cart stopped shaking, but my mind and stomach were working overtime. I had to concentrate hard just to continue breathing. I scooted back against the boxes and wrapped the blanket around my arms to protect them from the sun.

Celeste sat down against the edge of the cart and she was soon joined by a third person. He was a small man with short dark hair and oddly clean wasteland clothes. I couldn't help but feel that I've seen him somewhere before.

"Here." Celeste handed me a canteen. "You'll need it."

It felt like I've been years without water, the sun beating down on my neck didn't help. I finished the canteen as fast as I could without taking a break for air.

I still needed answers, but I didn't know how to ask. So I just stared at Celeste until she caught on.

"Oh." She cleared her throat. "Livius, this is Philippe. He was the head chef at the Ultra Luxe."

Philippe gave a small wave, barely looking up from his feet. We were no longer moving, but my nausea felt worse than it ever did before.

"Didn't he try to eat me?"

Philippe bowed his head further and Celeste shrugged.

"We have a common goal now. There will be no cannibalism on this trip."

Stanley trudged over to the back of the cart.

"We'll camp here, but we shouldn't overstay our welcome." He cupped his hand over his eyes and stared off into the desert. "Won't be long until this area is all NCR territory and we don't want to be here when that happens."

Celeste gestured to him. "Livius you remember Stanley, right?"

"Yes, but what's going on?"

She hopped off of the cart. "Stanley and I are drug dealers, Philippe is wanted for cannibalism, you're a legionary. We're all wanted by the NCR, so we're heading up north."

I clutched the blanket tighter. We were in the middle of the desert, but I still felt freezing.

"What about the battle? What happened to the legion?"

"Here's a hint, genius." Philippe snapped. "We're all running from the _NCR_."

Celeste stared down at her feet. "The war's over, the Legion lost. When the securitrons came rolling out of the bunker, there was little they could do to fight back. The battle was over before it started."

I felt like she just punched me in the gut. My breathing became harder and harder to control. I was going to be sick. No, this couldn't be true. She was lying to me.

Philippe turned to Celeste. "Looks like he's going to pass out again."

"Why?" My voice trembled with the rest of my body. "Why didn't you let me fight?"

"Because you would have died, Livius." Her fingers clenched around the empty canteen. "Did you hear me? You wouldn't have been able to make it out alive."

I was burning up and freezing at the same time. I looked up at the cloudless blue sky. They were travelling north, so that was all the information I needed to form a map in my head.

Flinging the blanket off of my shoulders, I bolted from the cart and began running south as fast as my weak legs could go.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Celeste screamed and began trailing after me.

"Let him go." Philippe called back. "He wants to die, let him."

The air was knocked out of my lungs when Celeste wrapped her arms around my torso. My legs were still flailing and kicking up the dirt around us.

"You have to let me go!" I tried my hardest to squirm out of her grasp, my eyes were stinging from the dust and tears. "If I can just make it back to Arizona…"

She held me tighter. "You can't run to Arizona from Nevada! I'm trying to save your life, dummy!"

"But my brothers! My men, they needed me!"

"It's too late for that!" She was practically screaming in my ear. "The legion had no chance. _You_ had no chance!"

My breathing was becoming only heavier and more labored. Drawing my elbow back, I struck Celeste in the face as hard as I could.

She let go of me, her glasses clattered to the desert floor. I stood back, staring at her in disbelief. Her hand shook as she knelt down to pick her glasses back up. Her other hand was cupped over her face where a bruise was forming. Blood was trickling from her nose as well. She placed her glasses back on, one of the lenses was cracked. Her arguing stopped. She just stared at me for what felt like forever. I couldn't take it anymore. I turned away and ran from the group as fast as I could. She didn't stop me.

…

I didn't get very far. Night came too fast and my legs were still too weak. I curled up in front of some boulders and kept my eyes on the camp. They had a small fire going in front of the cart. I wanted that. The Mojave nights were cold and brutal. I only had a tank top and a pair of pants to shelter me from the weather. I don't know how I changed out of my armor, but I decided not to think about that.

My neck fell back and I looked up at the stars. They were invisible back in Vegas and I never had a chance to look at them at the Fort. Since I was on my back slowly freezing to death, I figured I had more than enough time to just watch.

Just when my eyes were starting to fall heavy, I felt a blanket being draped over me.

"Celeste?" I forced my eyes open to see Philippe standing there with a plate of food.

"Not quite. It's me, the one you _didn't_ elbow in the face." He held the food out to me and I finally caught on how hungry I was.

"Thank you." I looked down at the piece of meat. It looked good and it felt like it's been forever since I had cooked food, but I was still unsure about eating it.

Philippe rolled his eyes. "It's just gecko."

I nodded and scarfed the meat down. It was better than I could have ever imagined. It tasted sharp, but still sweet with a light smokiness to it.

"That was amazing." I clawed at the plate, as if expecting more to appear.

"I didn't always have the luxury of cooking in fancy restaurants, you know. But I can make a gourmet-tasting meal just about anywhere." He said with a smug grin and gestured to the ground. "Mind if I sit? The others are talking about the drug trade and I don't want to listen to that."

I nodded and he sat down.

"At the risk of sounding uncivilized," He averted his eyes from mine. "I relate to you."

I tilted my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "You lost your home, your identity, and now you're vilified by everyone else. You were forced to abandon your destiny because someone else thought they could decide your path for you."

I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "So the NCR is after you too."

"Fucking Mortimer framed _me_ for cannibalism to save his own ass." He held his head in his hands. "After everything he's done for me, after everything I've done for him…"

"I'm sorry." I wrapped the blanket tighter around my arms. "I don't know how I would have dealt with that." Caesar was a fair and just leader, he never would have done that to me.

He gave a weary sigh and waved his hand. "Whatever. I imagine you had it worse."

"What do you mean?"

"The whole Legion thing."

I frowned. "It's not that bad. I mean, it wasn't that bad."

Philippe smirked. "You kidding me? The crucifixions? The slavery? The unflattering uniforms? Actually, let's talk about those uniforms." He sat up straighter. "I mean they do great things for your legs, but everything else? Doesn't do your figure justice. You legion boys look like a bunch of triangles marching through the desert."

I almost laughed. "Well I could never be in the White Glove Society. I don't like cannibalism, especially after you tried to cook me."

He shrugged. "Shame, I think you could pull off one of those tuxedos."

"Thanks?"

"The mask would definitely help."

"...thanks."

"And besides," He hugged his knees to his chest. "You don't have to worry about me eating you. Well, you legionaries don't use drugs or alcohol, which would make you a better ingredient than the other two."

"Philippe…"

"But you do look very stringy."

"Philippe."

He looked back at me. "What? I said I'm not going to cook you."

"Okay."

"Unless we get desperate."

"Okay, we're done."

"If it's any consolation, I'll make you taste fantastic."

"Oh thank Mars, I was worried."

Philippe smirked at me. "So how about we move back to camp? I'm freezing my ass off here."

I looked back at the flickering fire. I craved that warmth, but there was no way I could face Celeste again.

"You know back in the legion, we'd use each other for warmth when it got cold. We didn't need fires."

Philippe stood up. "Absolutely not."

…

Celeste left to be by herself when I came back to camp. I like to think it was just a coincidence. I watched the smoke from the campfire trail up towards the night sky. A perfect way to signal any enemies in the area, but it was warm so I didn't mind too much. When Celeste and Stanley went back to discussing "business", Philippe and I couldn't do anything except have a short reading lesson.

"The fucking E is silent, dipshit." Philippe furiously rubbed his temples. "How many times do I have to explain this shit to you?"

I looked down at my notes. "Then why is it there?"

"How am I supposed to know? I didn't invent language."

I felt ashamed, but having Philippe scold me was a good way for me to keep my mind off of everything else. I reached into my pocket in the hopes of finding the reading notes Celeste made for me. My fingers found the edge of a crinkled piece of paper and I pulled it out, only to find something entirely different.

"It's Michael's note." I didn't mean to speak, but my voice came out anyway.

Philippe stared at me. "What?"

I know I told myself I wouldn't look at it until I was a better reader, but I couldn't help it. It was hard to keep my fingers still as I unfolded the note.

It took a long time for me to read it. I had to mouth some of the sounds out loud and I had to restart a lot. I even asked Philippe for help until he got frustrated and went to bed. After what felt like hours, I was able to make sense of what he wrote.

_Are you happy here?_

I held the note to my chest and I felt like I was choking. Blinking the tears out of my eyes, I looked around the camp. Two drug dealers and a cannibal. I didn't belong there. I was a loyal and honorable soldier. A soldier with no army. I was just as lost as the others.

The note fell from my fingers and I fell back against the ground. Twenty three years of my life, gone. It made me sick to think about but I couldn't stop. I wanted to go home, to my real home. Back where I could train with my brothers, sneak treats to the guard dogs, and not have to see the light from that city ever again.

I was choking back on my own tears, but I figured I could just blame the fire.

Was I happy here?

Does it really matter?

I'm still a legionary and legionaries aren't supposed to complain. My duty was to take orders and protect those I care for to my dying breath.

All I could do was hope I could do that right for a change.

**-Celeste-**

I remained near the edge of camp after Stanley left. The NCR's grasp on the north was weak at best. While we would have a lot of competition, there would be a lot of opportunity for business until the republic moved in.

Then what? Who knows. We didn't plan in advance.

I found a mirror stashed away with the rest of our supplies and I stared at my reflection in the cracked surface. The bruise on my cheek was as distinct as ever. There was a part of me that wanted to give Livius a matching one for doing this to me, but I couldn't blame him. It wasn't like I never had worse.

My fingers moved from the bruise to the scar, now completely covered by my hair. I grabbed my bangs and pulled them back to get a better look. I remember when I did everything I could to cover it up. I would feel sick just by looking at it. The stitches weren't going away, but there was a part of me that thought I could pretend that it never existed. Even though it consumed my mind at all times.

Benny was dead, the war was over, I'll never be hurt by him again. I still didn't feel safe, no one in the wasteland feels safe. Instead, I felt strong, even though I've been running from a lot of battles lately. I ran from the Enclave being overthrown. I ran from the raiders who killed my brother. I ran from the battle at the dam. This was a habit I needed to kick and I was going to begin by no longer running from my scars.

After a bit of fiddling, I removed my hearing aids and set them to the side, Using a straight razor and a less than steady hand, I began to hack away at the hair growing around the stitches. A pile of messy blonde hair began to form in front of me. It wasn't long until the hair on my head was nothing but a short fuzz, the row of stitches now protruding obviously around my temple. I felt sick seeing them so clearly, especially after months of trying to keep them covered up. But I did look kind of badass. Terrifying, but badass. I placed my hearing aids back in just in time to notice someone was standing in front of me.

"Why did you cut it?"

Livius was standing a few feet in front of me, his eyes locked on the hair pile on the ground.

"Figured it's time for a change." I ran my hand over my freshly-shorn head. "What's up?"

Livius was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke up, his voice was quiet and shaking.

"I'm sorry."

My throat went dry and I sighed, gently touching my bruise,

"It's fine. Emotions were high."

Livius shook his head. "No, it's not fine. You're my squad. I shouldn't have betrayed your trust."

I moved the razor around in my hands. "I did a pretty shit thing to you, Livius. A shitty, selfish thing. I don't blame you."

"Will you just accept my apology?!"

I looked up at him. His head was down, his forehead resting in his hand.

"Okay. I'll accept your apology if you accept mine."

He took a deep breath and nodded, sitting down next to me.

"I'm just...scared." He rubbed his upper arms to keep warm. "Before I always had hope that I go home at some point. That's never going to happen so I don't know what to do."

"No one knows what's going to happen to us." I patted his shoulder. "But you'll be with us, so it's going to be okay."

"I don't want to be a drug dealer."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I wouldn't trust you to handle the goods anyway."

"What's the plan anyway?"

I stared out towards the horizon, the mountains were just a stark black silhouette against the night sky.

"We're going to keep travelling north until we find civilization. With the help of Philippe, we're going to open a restaurant to act as a front for the drug trade. We do that until we get caught, then we move on to the next town. Rinse and repeat."

Livius tilted his head to the side. "But Philippe said he doesn't want to get involved with the drug trade."

"Which is why he doesn't have to know about this."

"Why are you selling drugs anyway? We can just open a restaurant."

"Well then what are Stanley and I supposed to do?"

Livius shrugged. "Servers?"

"No, that's what we have you for. You're better at taking orders."

My joke clearly went over his head.

"Whatever." I stood up. "Let's move back to camp before we freeze to death."

"Are you mad at me?"

I stopped and stared at him. "I should be asking you that question."

Livius took a moment to think, then he bowed his head.

"I don't know. I should be mad at you, but maybe I'm too tired to be."

"That's understandable." I helped him to his feet. "We'll make this work. We always do."

Philippe and Stanley were seated next to the radio when we returned. They looked up at us as we sat down beside the fire.

"Oh you missed it." Stanley shut the radio off. "They just released more information about the battle."

Livius's eyes widened. "What happened?"

Stanley waved his hand. "They'll probably repeat the same news segment in an hour."

"Just tell him." Philippe rubbed his temples. "I can't listen to anymore Mr. New Vegas."

"You westerners are spoiled. RNV totally beats east coast radio." I lowered my voice to a monotone drawl. "Greetings, dearest America. This is your president, John Henry Eden, here to remind you that you're not a true patriot until you jerk it to the national anthem every morning."

The guys just stared at me blankly.

I scoffed and waved my hand. "What a waste. If we were back east, you folks would be laughing…"

"Here's the abridged version:" Philippe turned to Livius. "Killer robots attacked the legion's main base, hard. Little chance of victory. By the time the survivors made it to the dam, it was too late. NCR wiped the floor with them. All of the high ranking officers were executed. Everyone else was captured. The NCR was talking about helping the captured legionaries reenter civilization under the republic, but you know how the NCR gets."

Livius's face was pale and it looked like he was going to pass out again.

"Kid?" I held my hand out in case he fell over.

He shook his head. "I'm fine. It's fine. Everything is fine."

Philippe stared at me. "Does he do this a lot?"

"He's not the only one here who was screwed over by the republic, Phil."

Philippe's jaw twitched. "Is there any chance of us going back to Vegas so I can stab Mortimer?"

"I'm sure we can fit it into our schedule."

"You don't have to worry about me." Livius held his head up straighter. "This means I'll just have to fight harder for my new squad."

"That's what I like to hear, kid." Stanley gave a thumbs up. "We'll definitely need someone to fight off any NCR soldiers who give us trouble."

Livius crossed his arms. "Just so you know, I'm defending you guys. Not the drugs."

"Sure, kid."

After we put the fire out, we all got our bedrolls set up. Livius was still standing near the edge of camp.

"I'm keeping watch." He held his rifle closer to his chest. "I got enough sleep."

I sighed and stood next to him. "You don't have to defend us 24/7. Take some time to take care of yourself."

He shrugged. "I don't want to mess up this time."

"You're not going to mess up." I patted his back. "And if you do, so what? I made a lot of mistakes in my life."

"No offence, but you're not exactly my idol."

"No offence taken."

Livius smiled. "I do owe you my life, I'll give you that."

I grinned back at him. "So, you ready to travel through the desert with me once more?"

"Well it's not like I have a choice." He laughed. "But it will be an honor."

I clapped him on the back. "Take care of yourself."

He stared down at his feet and nodded.

"I'll do my best."

…

The desert wind whipped around my shaved head as we continued on. The cart bumped and rocked against the harsh desert ground. The two brahmin pulling the cart (who I named Brunhilda and Steve) trudged on. The city of Vegas was now a distant memory. We had no set destination, no concrete plan. But I wasn't worried. Crazy shit happens in the wasteland, I've seen a lot of it first hand. There isn't much that can surprise me anymore.

There is something strangely comforting about that.

…

_End of Chips &amp; Chances_


End file.
